


Cirice and the Black Death

by Birdybirp



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: 20s au, AU, F/M, Mobster AU, Smoking, alternative universe, depictions of death and decay, so much swearing and smoking guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-19 08:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdybirp/pseuds/Birdybirp
Summary: Zenith's rising star, a club singer who goes by Cirice, ends up tangled with the Emeritus Gang's go-to assassin.[Made for Ghost BC Big Bang 2019]





	1. 1. We Shouldn't Hide Who We Are

No matter where you worked or lived in Zenith, you were under the watch of the Emeritus family. They had their hands in every aspect of the city. The First, Virgil, handled housing and agriculture, The Second, Giovanni, handled business and security, and The Third, Dante, handled entertainment. Their father, Nihil, sat above it all in his mansion on the hill, employing many citizens to maintain the massive grounds. You may never interact with an Emeritus, but you still saw their grunts, the masked Ghouls, crawling all over the streets wearing suits with accents colored to match the Papa they served. You couldn’t escape them.

Depending on how much the Emeritus gang favored you, you lived in paradise or hell. In my case, it could be both at the same time.

“Cirice!” An enthusiastic looking girl shouted my stage name and waved at me. The girl and the cameraman behind her trotted towards me as I smoked a cigarette behind the club.

“I don’t do interviews.” I snuffed out the cigarette on the brick wall and turned to open the backstage door. Before I could enter, the reporter blocked my way with her arm and gave me a fake, toothy grin. She was persistent.

“But everyone in Zenith wants to know more about Idolatrine’s bespectacled beauty!”

“Don’t call me that.” I said curtly.

“Not even one comment for the papers?” Her smile faltered.

“I’m not here to give blurbs for papers.” I ducked under her arm and she looked offended. “I’m here to sing, and that’s it.” I pushed her out of the way and moved to close the stage door.

“Can I quote you on that?” “No.” Her smile faded away as I slammed the door in her face.

“Jordan, you can’t keep doing that. You’ll drive people away.” Elizabeth chided me as soon as I moved away from the door.

Elizabeth, or Liz, was the owner of Idolatrine and the woman who had given me a break and the stage name “Cirice”. I considered Liz the most constant annoyance I had, and the closest thing I had to a friend in South Zenith.

“I remember someone saying that having a mysterious persona was the key to success.” I walked right past her to my vanity to finish getting ready. “Or did you give me a fake name just for the giggles?” I sat down on the bench and started applying blush and lipstick.

“People are still complaining about your glasses.” She huffed and sat down next to me. I shot her a look in the mirror. “Jordan, people want to see your eyes! It helps them connect to you.”

“Liz. I told you last week, and the week before that, and the week before that-” I sighed.

“They only need to connect with the music. Sure.” Liz mocked me and rolled her eyes. “But, as you get more popular, people will want to know Cirice, not just her music.”

“Well, good thing Cirice isn’t a real person.” My makeup finished, I started to style my hair into an updo. “Nothing to know about a fake persona.” I shrugged.

“And no one would want to know Jordan Clarke because she has such a stick up her ass.” Elizabeth huffed. “Dark Lord knows I regret knowing her.”

“Love you too, Liz.” I didn’t even give her a passing glance, focusing on my reflection as I tried to manage my long, unruly hair. Liz groaned and stood up from the bench. I heard her muttering about how impossible I was to work with.

“I’m sorry for bringing in so much business. My apologies.”

“Hey, you can’t come back here! Oh--!”

I turned over my shoulder to see who Liz was talking to. A tall Ghoul was standing in front of her, dwarfing her already small stature. She looked scared, and I understood why. The Ghoul wasn’t wearing any colors.

“Uhm... who are you with?” My manager’s voice was a small squeak. The Ghoul said nothing, not even moving a muscle. We really needed to hire security.

“Can I help you?” I stood from my bench and approached the Ghoul, placing my hand on Liz’s shoulder to make her feel less afraid.

The Ghoul looked from Liz, over to me, before shoving a massive bouquet in my hands. I was no stranger to receiving flowers backstage, but they came from less ominous delivery men. Usually I refused anything sent to me, but turning down a Papa, or even a Ghoul, would land you in trouble.

“Are these from you or...?” I trailed off, one eyebrow quirking up. The Ghoul shook his head before handing me a small card and lumbering off. The card was a plain white square of cardstock with a simple handwritten message.

_ Looking forward to your performance, Bellissima Cantante. _

It was unsigned and the back of the card was embossed with a black Grucifix. It was the Emeritus symbol, but not the color of any of the Papas.

“An Emeritus is here?” Liz trembled under my hand before she broke away and started pacing, swiping up her clipboard and making frantic notes.

“There’s no way it’s a Papa.” I scoffed, inspecting the card and flowers. As much as I loathe to admit it, they looked beautiful.

“But... a Ghoul! And a Grucifix!” Liz gestured emphatically at the items in my hands.

“Yeah, but a Ghoul and Grucifix with no colors?” It wasn’t like any Emeritus to send a calling card without announcing themselves with at least their color. Gold for Nihil, red for Virgil, green for Gio, and purple for Dante. Everything each respective Papa touched down to their Ghouls was color coded. No one knew why, but that’s how it always had been. I had lived in Zenith for almost three decades and I had never seen a black Grucifix, or a Ghoul dressed entirely in black.

“Some rube from the farms in Spöksonat probably paid a Ghoul and gave him a black suit. Everyone knows you can’t turn down a Ghoul if you want to keep working. Whoever sent this is some fanatic who wanted to make sure I’d have to accept these.” I tossed the flowers on to the old settee at the back of the dressing room with little ceremony and Liz looked horrified.

“But what if it is a Papa? I don’t think an Emeritus has set foot in this part of Zenith in years! It could be a big deal for you, Jordan.” Liz tensed and looked even more panicked. “Infernal hells, we should at least try to make this place look like less of a shithole.”

“Oh, honey.” I tutted as I returned to my vanity to give myself one final once over before my show started. “My dear, dear Elizabeth Monson. Hasn’t anyone ever told you Idolatrine has been, and will always be, a shithole?” I smirked at her through the mirror and she glared at me. “Besides, he’s probably already in the building, so that ship has sailed.”

“Jordan, come on! You know what I mean.” Liz was about to give me a lecture, but a light flashing above my vanity cut her off.

Showtime. “We shouldn’t hide who we are, anyway.” I muttered as I stood to make my entrance.

“That’s fucking rich coming from you, _ Cirice _.”

“You know what I mean.” I mocked Liz with her own words and smirked before I heard my musical cue and stepped onto the stage. 


	2. Chapter 2 -- The Black Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Chapter 2!! I'm in a rush this morning so I just hope you enjoy it!
> 
> \-- Birdy

Sunlight was streaming through the dirty window of my dressing room.  I blinked, confused. I was lying on the dingy settee, the mystery flower bouquet down by my feet.

I was still at the club? When the sun was up?

Shit, I’d fallen asleep. 

After Cirice skyrocketed in popularity a few weeks ago, I’ve been hanging back at Idolatrine long after the show ends.  People had taken to hanging around the club or, even worse, the stage door, waiting for me to come out.  They wanted photos, autographs, or even just to say they met the elusive Cirice.  To avoid them, I had gotten in the habit of waiting around the club until around 4 AM, after everyone had long since given up, and then I would head home.  Liz, who lived at the club, had given me a key to lock up once I left. 

As much as I hated to admit it, I really did owe a lot to Liz.

Today, however, was a terrible day to sleep in.  I had to walk to Second Emeritus Bank on the other side of the city and then I had to walk back to the club for my show tonight. 

Well, better get going. 

I walked out into the club, abandoned in the daytime except for Liz pouring over expenses and the bartender, Johnny, reading the newspaper. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up, Liz?” My voice cut through the eerie silence of the empty bar.  I was rushing, shoving my feet in my more practical, non-performance heels and trying to shove my thick black hair under a cheap felt cloche hat. 

“You looked like you needed the rest.” Liz replied, not even looking up from her papers. 

“Not today, I didn’t.” I grumbled.  “Check, please?” Liz still didn’t look up as she pushed an envelope over to me.  I opened it to inspect my payment.  The number written was higher than usual. 

“Thanks for the extra.” I muttered, shoving the envelope in my clutch. 

“You better use that on food, Jordan.” Liz finally looked up at me.  “Or something nice for yourself.” I shrugged. 

“You need to take care of yourself.” She scowled at me.  Her face, cherubic and framed with messy red curls, was too sweet to be intimidating. 

“I’m doing fine. I eat here.” I couldn’t get my other heel on, so I sat down next to Liz to push my foot into the shoe. 

“You eat one meal a day here.” Liz grabbed my shoulder to prevent me from standing up.  “Tell me you’re eating more than that.” I shrugged off her hand and cleaned a smudge off of my glasses. 

“It’s fine, Liz.” I insisted.

“Jordan, you’re not seriously only eating one meal a day?”

“Food costs money.” 

“I know what I’m paying you, I know you can afford food.”

“You know where all this goes, Liz.” I started fishing through my bag for my cigarettes.  “I keep enough to pay rent and buy cigs. The rest gets wired to the Farmlands.”

“Cigarettes aren’t more important than food!” Liz protested. “You can’t eat those.” 

“I probably could if I was desperate enough.” I found the carton of cigarettes and tapped one out, moving it toward my mouth like I was going to eat it. 

“Jordan!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking.” I stood and placed the unlit cigarette between my lips. “But really, I’ll be okay.” 

“And what’s Russel gonna do if you die living like this?” 

“I’m not going to die.” It was my turn to scowl at her before I flicked my lighter, lit my cigarette and made my way to the door. 

“Wait... are you wiring that to the farmlands today?” Liz stood and followed me to the door. 

“You got it.” 

“Are you still walking everywhere?” 

“Do busses and taxis still cost money?” 

“Jordan you can’t walk all the way to the finance district! Let me call you a cab.” 

“I got it, Liz. I’ll be fine.” I took a drag off the cigarette and resisted the urge to blow the smoke in her face.  Smoking on an empty stomach made me feel a little nauseous, but the nicotine helped kick me in to gear for the long walk ahead. 

“You really shouldn’t Miss Clarke.” Johnny, a burly bearded man, had folded his newspaper neatly in front of him before addressing me. 

“A little walking never hurt anyone, John.” 

“No, but some Repugnant members broke into a warehouse just down the street and wrecked the place.  They could still be hanging around. It’s not safe.”

“Repugnant? That little resistance against the Emeritus Gang?” I couldn’t help but laugh.  “Johnny, those Repugnant kids are nothing but teen punks with a few baseball bats. You know I can take them.” 

“Been a lot of Black Death hits recently, too.” Johnny muttered, taking a swig of what looked like whiskey out of a short glass. 

“Oh, so now you’re scaring me with urban legends?” I scoffed at him.  “They made up The Black Death to stop people from crossing Nihil. I have never heard of a Black Death hit this far South, anyway.”

“I saw one. Last night.” Johnny, a stern man already, sounded so serious it made me take pause. 

“Really?” Liz gasped, standing up and turning to him with her hands over her mouth. 

“Yeah. Some kid, too young to be clubbing, was bragging about being high up in Repugnant and causing a stink outside the club trying to get in.  Kicked him off the property. Few hours later, taking out the trash at the end of the night.  His body was in the alley” He paused and shuddered.  A big man like Johnny fearing something was unsettling. 

“It looked like he’s been there for weeks.  All rigid... decomposing. Seemed like he was rotting away before my eyes.” He took a deep drink from his glass. 

“I went to get the cop who runs security to get, I dunno, backup or something.  Too late though. Body was pretty much dust. There was maybe a few bones left, but everything else had rotted away.” 

“Wait, and you didn’t tell me?” Liz was shaking.  I was trying to hide it, but I was too. 

“Nothing you could have done about it anyway, Miss Monson.” Liz and I both looked at each other.  A murder had happened right under our noses and there wasn’t any evidence left to find. 

The myth of The Black Death had started a few years back.  People thought it had to do with the Emeritus Gang, since everything else gruesome in the city was their doing too.  The main consensus was that, if The Black Death was real, it came after you if you crossed The Family.

Many regarded it as an urban legend.  It certainly sounded like one: People seen alive not minutes earlier found dead and decomposing, and they rot away in minutes.  People have supposedly tried to take items or parts off of bodies to show proof, but they also decayed just as quickly.  With no evidence, most people shrugged it off as some myth spread to make sure people kept their heads down. 

But Johnny was a no bullshit kind of guy.  If he said he saw a Black Death hit, I believed him. 

“Let me take you where you’re going in the car.” Johnny insisted, already standing to get the keys from behind the bar.  I took a step forward to protest and my knees shook. 

"Fine...” I went to take a drag off of my cigarette to realize I’d let it burn down when I was focusing on Johnny’s story. 

“Shit. Sorry Liz.” There was ash gathered around my feet, making a mess on the floor. 

“It’s fine.” Her voice was small. 

“Hey,” I put my hand on her shoulder.  “Nothing’s gonna happen.” I assured her.  “Unless you’ve turned down a date with The Third or something?” I was joking, but Liz’s eyes flicked over to Johnny behind the bar and she looked nervous. 

“N-No, of course not!” She said, a little too defensive. “I’ve never even seen Dante!” 

“Then you’re safe.” I smirked at her.  “He’s not your type anyway, huh, Liz?” I leaned in to whisper in her ear, “You prefer bearded, stoic guys twice your size, eh?” She turned a bright red and I giggled. 

“Coming?” Johnny had put on his hat and coat and was standing by the alley exit where he parked his car. 

“Yeah.” I tossed my cigarette butt in a nearby trash can, patting the flustered Liz on the shoulder.

“But just a ride to Second Emeritus, nothing else!” I insisted as I walked across the club floor. 

“I can take you to your place, though. Can pick you up before the show tonight, too.” 

“Haven’t you heard, Johnny? Cirice doesn’t accept ‘charity.’” Liz had made her way back to her paperwork and was shouting at us over her shoulder.  I wondered if she was still blushing red. 

“I swear, she’d rather die than accept help from anyone.” I heard her mutter. 

“Guilty as charged.” I grinned and Liz stuck her tongue out at me.  Johnny held open the back door and gestured me to go ahead of him. “See you tonight.” 

“Not if you end up dead in a gutter somewhere!” Liz shouted after me as Johnny let the door close behind us. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more worldbuilding! Tomorrow, we get into more plot. 
> 
> I woke up to find half of this chapter had accidentally been deleted in my Google Doc, so I had a hell of a morning retrieving it... We're all good now, though!


	3. Chapter 3 -- Have to be Tough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan meets her admirer and someone else.

Johnny dropped me off at the Second Emeritus Bank and I waved goodbye to him. The scorching summer heat beat down on me as soon as I stepped out of the car and I knew the walk to my apartment would be a rough one. Once my check had been sent off to my mother, I steeled myself to endure the journey home.

Stepping out of the air-conditioned bank into the wave of heat, I shielded my eyes from the blistering sun. When my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I saw Johnny parked in front of the bank. He was leaning against the car, his newspaper open in front of him to look casual, but he was peeking over the top of the paper, waiting for me.

Since running would draw attention, I attempted to casually walk down the street away from him. I hadn’t gotten far before I felt a large hand clamp down on my shoulder. Johnny was a big man, so he took large strides, and he was fast. My escape attempt was doomed from the start.

“Miss Clarke, I should take you home.”

“I told you, just to the bank.” I tried to pull away, but he gripped my shoulder tighter. It was like a vice. “I can make it from here.”

“Not in this heat.” “What heat? I hadn’t noticed.” Sweat was already pooling on my back, but Johnny didn’t need to know that. “I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t.” Johnny urged, trying to pull me back in the car’s direction, but I dug in my heels and resisted. The more he tried to get me to relent, the more stubborn I became.

“Johnny.” I said firmly. “I don’t need your help. Go back to the club and get ready for the show.”

“What will your brother do if you die of heat stroke?” I froze, stomach turning. “Even if you just pass out, you’d miss the show, then you’d have to pay a hospital bill. Don’t you need as much cash as you can get?”

“Fine, I get it!” I relented and turned back towards the car, stomping back to it in a huff. “Low blow, Johnny Boy.” He hated being called that. 

I slammed the passenger side door and plopped down into the passenger seat. I fished in my purse for my second cigarette of the day, but I stopped. As upset as I was at Johnny, I wouldn’t be that asshole who smokes in a car.

Johnny took his seat behind the wheel and I gave him directions to my apartment.

“I don’t understand why you’re so bullheaded.” Johnny sighed as he pulled out onto the road.

“I just prefer to do things myself.” I grumbled. Johnny and I rarely spoke, so he didn’t know how I operated.

“At the cost of your own health? Why suffer like that?”

“It’s not suffering, it’s not taking handouts.” I clarified. “I’ve always gotten things done on my own, and that’s how I want to keep it.”

“You’ll get yourself killed that way.” He took his eyes off the road for a second to give me a worried look. Johnny always was a gentle giant. “Or kill yourself.”

“Don’t worry, I’m tough.” I flexed an arm, patting my bicep. “I have to be these days.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice was sad, and it deflated me a little. “You’re successful, Miss Clarke, close to famous.” I gave an exasperated sigh, not wanting to get into why didn’t care about that. “What I’m saying is you can afford to lower your guard.”

“Every time I’ve lowered my guard, someone’s taken advantage of me.” My apartment building came into view and I looked at it instead of Johnny. “Besides, who knows how long this Cirice thing will last? I could be back on the street any minute.” As soon as he parked the car, I popped open the passenger door and hustled toward the front door of the complex, hoping Johnny wouldn’t follow me. I groaned when I heard the car’s engine putter off and the sound of the car door opening and closing.

“If you’re gonna wait for me, stay in the lobby.” I said over my shoulder. 

If Johnny saw the state of my place, it would make him worry, and then he would tell Liz. My apartment had a bed, a shower, and a toilet. I didn’t need much else. There was a fridge, but nothing inside except for a few beers that I would most likely never drink, and the freezer had been broken for months. But it was a roof over my head, which was all I needed. I didn’t want Liz busting into the place and lecturing me on how I lived.

I took the elevator up to my apartment, showered, changed into a clean dress, and headed back down to the ground floor. Johnny was sitting in a chair that was almost too small for his broad stature, still thumbing through his newspaper. Either he was a slow reader, or he had gone over it several times since that morning.

“Need to go anywhere else?” Johnny’s eyes glanced up at me once the elevator doors opened.

“No, let’s get to the club. I’m hungry, anyway.” I hadn’t eaten yet that day and Johnny looked concerned and all but rushed me into the car when he realized that.

When I got back to Idolatrine, a bouquet was in a vase on my vanity. It was considerably bigger than the one I had received the night before.

“Different Ghoul dropped it off.” Liz said, shaken. “Still dressed in all black though.” She handed me a note that must have come with the flowers. Another black Grucifix was on the reverse side.

_ Bella, _

_ I would very much like to speak to you after your performance this evening. Meet me at the end of the bar so we may get to know each other. _

“Well, I’m not doing that.” I tossed the note in a trash bin but admired the flowers. They were even more beautiful than the last.

“But what if it really is a Papa?” Liz sounded nervous.

“Then he can come talk to me backstage.” I scoffed. “You know what will happen if I go out in that crowd. They would swarm me.”

“Please, Jordan.” Liz begged. “If a Papa is interested in your performance, it could be a big opportunity for both of us.” I contemplated her words, tapping a cigarette out of the box and pressing it to my lips. I lit it and took a long drag, shaking my head as I exhaled.

“You're fucking lucky I love you, Liz.”

“I owe you big time!” She squealed. Her face lit up as she gave me a hug.

“I owe you more, so don’t worry about it.” I patted her shoulder awkwardly, not used to human contact outside of a fight. Liz had pulled me off of the streets, braving a few annoying fans for her seemed like a small price to pay for her kindness.

“I’m telling you, though, it’s not gonna be a Papa.” I said, tapping the ash from my cigarette into an ashtray.

Sometimes I hate being right.

After my show, I snuck through the darkened club to take one of two seats at the far end of the bar. Most of the patrons had already left. My reputation for avoiding people preceded me. The back corner of the club was also out of sight from the more busy tables and booths. The stools of the bar itself were empty. Not a terrible place to meet someone if you wanted to remain hidden. I wondered if Johnny had arranged that.

“Well, if it ain’t Zenith’s most beautiful songbird.”

A grungy looking man, mid-twenties, sat at the barstool next to mine with a strong level of confidence. He was wearing a dirty cotton shirt under a ratty leather jacket. His jeans were full of holes and he wore sturdy combat boots. He had slicked his hair back, showing off a hastily painted black and white skull on his face. Fake blood trailed from the center of his forehead and down his face.

A typical Repugnant member. They painted themselves up like the Papas and then covered themselves in blood, a symbol of how they wanted to overthrow the current hierarchy.

If this guy was my secret admirer, I would throw up.

“Can I help you?” I said, annoyed. I kept my gaze straight ahead, taking a puff off my cigarette as he stayed in my periphery.

“Now, is that any way to speak to the fourth highest member of Repugnant?” I could hear his grin through his voice.

“It is if I don’t give a shit.” I exhaled the smoke and tapped the ash into the glass tray on the bar.

“Wow, you’re as much of a bitch as they say you are.” He said, impressed. He leaned closer to me and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, weary. “The ones who play hard to get are always the ones who want it the most, aren’t they?” He ran his hand up my back and I elbowed his arm away.

“Don’t touch me.” My tone was even, but there was a hint of warning in it. I still wasn’t looking at him. Hopefully, he would take the hint and leave.

He did not. He grabbed my face in one hand and turned my head to look at him. I felt rage, tinged with fear, build up in my chest.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Cirice.” His words feigned affection, but his tone was condescending. “We both know that you’re tough on the inside, but deep down you want a big, strong man to take care of you.” I laughed in his face and jerked my head out of his hand.

“You’re funny, kid.” I said, even though he was only a few years younger than me. “But you’ve got the wrong idea. You should just go home. Show’s over. I’m done.” I snuffed out my half-finished cigarette in the ashtray and stood.

“Ah, ah, not so fast.” As I walked away from him, the punk grabbed onto the bodice of my dress and tugged hard. The seams popped and the top of the dress started to fall away.

I clenched my teeth as he started to laugh.

With one hand holding my dress, I turned on my heel and threw a punch aimed for his nose. A direct hit. There was a satisfying pop of his nose breaking under my fist and my follow through knocked him off his stool and onto the ground.

“What the fuck?!” his voice was more nasal as blood poured from his nose.

“I better not see you again, asshole.” I growled at him, shaking out my fist. It stung. “I don’t care how many Ghouls you pay off or flowers you send, if I see you in my club again I will break your fucking legs.”

“Wh-what?” He was still reeling from the hit and I smirked in smug satisfaction.

“Jordan, everything all right?” Johnny had been giving me my privacy at the end of the bar but came over when he heard a body hitting the floor.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” I inspected the Repugnant goon’s blood on my knuckles. “Just get this guy out of here.” I turned and made to go back to my dressing room, still holding up the damaged dress to keep myself covered.

“Lucifer below! Jordan, what happened?” Liz was sitting backstage going over the sales for the evening, but she dropped everything in her lap onto the floor and came to my side.

“My admirer was some high ranking Repugnant asshole.” I grumbled as I started to change out of the torn dress. It would need fixing and I would have to do it myself. I couldn’t afford to buy a new one and I didn’t have many others.

“Jordan, I am so sorry I made you go out there.” Liz looked guilty.

“There’s no way you could have known.” I assured her. “Besides, I took care of it.” Out of the ruined dress, down to my slip, stockings, and underwear, I went to wash the blood off my hands.

“Jordan what did you do?” Liz gasped.

“Just gave him what he deserved. Johnny’s dragged him out by now.”

“Did you kill him?” She sounded horrified, and I busted up laughing.

“No, I wasn’t that mad.” I said through my laughter. “I just broke his nose, and he folded like a house of cards.” After drying my hands, I slipped on my casual dress. “Anyone can talk big until they get hit square in the face.” Looking in my vanity mirror, I pulled down my hair and watched it tumble in a black mass around my shoulders.

“Gonna have a quick smoke.” I said, heading to the stage door. “That prick made me waste half of one.” Liz look concerned.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Jordan?”

“Don’t worry, I’m tough.” I told her over my shoulder as I opened the back door.

The stage door closed behind me and my body started shaking. My knees wobbled, and I leaned against the wall to keep upright. I acted tough in front of others, but that situation was terrifying and demoralizing. The hand that brought my cigarette to my lips trembled. The adrenaline was wearing off, being replaced with a mixture of panic and mortification. Scum like that was trying so hard to win me over. It made my skin crawl. I was going to burn the bouquet in my dressing room. But first, I needed to calm myself.

If I could just light my cigarette.

“God-fucking-dammit.” My hand shook so violently that I couldn’t flick the lighter. Any flame would die, if it would even light at all.

“Cold, Miss?” The sudden sound of a voice nearly made me jump out of my skin. I had been so laser focused on trying to light my cigarette I hadn’t seen a man enter the back alley. He was middle-aged, dressed in a well tailored white suit, with slicked back brown hair. He looked like he had more money than anyone else did in this part of Zenith. The cover of night made his face indistinct, which made me nervous.

“I’m fine.” I muttered, giving one more flick of my lighter. When it didn’t strike, I groaned in frustration and gave up. I stuffed the lighter back into my bag and made to shove the cigarette back in its box, when the stranger produced a lighter with a blazing flame.

“Allow me.” The light of the flame caught his features. High cheekbones, large sideburns, mustache. He painted his eyes and his upper lip black, which I found strange. But the most catching thing were his eyes. One eye remained shadowed, even with the additional light, but the other was a shocking white, tinged orange by the flame between us.

I didn’t trust him. 

He quirked an eyebrow at me when he noticed I was staring. I stammered, awkward for a moment, before lighting my cigarette and blowing out a puff of smoke. The man clicked the lighter closed with a little flair.

“Thanks.” I said curtly, leaning back against the wall and placing the cigarette between my lips, trying to hide my still trembling arms. I pulled the same tactic I did with the Repugnant member in the bar; I looked straight ahead at the wall across the alley and pretended he wasn’t there. After a few drags, he hadn’t left.

“Look,” I sighed, a puff of smoke streaming from my lips. “I don’t do autographs, I don’t talk to people. Especially tonight.” I turned to glare at him. He was just standing, his gloved hands in his pockets, looking at me.

“So... leave?” What was it with guys not respecting boundaries tonight?

“I’m not here for that.” He didn’t seem phased by my bluntness at all, which irked me.

“What do you want, then? I don’t have a lot of patience right now.” If I hadn’t needed to finish my cigarette, I would have gone back into the club and left the stranger high and dry in the alley. But I still had half of it left and I needed as much nicotine as I could get.

“I saw what happened in there.” He tilted his head towards the club. Great, someone had seen that shit show.

“And what? Are you some reporter from Majesty who wants some scoop on a bar fight?” I scoffed at him. “You upper class shitheads do so enjoy validation. You like to know we are scum down here on the south side, don’t you?” That seemed to shake him and I blew another puff of smoke out of my lungs before giving him a smug smile.

“N-No.” He was much more tense, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. “I came to see if... if you were all right.” That caught me off guard.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” My cigarette continued to burn down steadily. It was a timer ticking down until I could leave the conversation.

“It is understandable for that to have scared you.”

“I’m not scared.” I said, defensive. His eyes flicked to my still trembling hand, and I scowled at him.

“Right.” He gave a gentle sigh. “Well, at least let me make up for his rudeness and give you something to buy a new dress. Shame that he ruined such a beautiful one.” He fished around his pockets for his wallet.

“No.” I said firmly, and he froze, confused. “I don’t take charity. I will fix it myself.”

“It’s not charity, Miss Cirice.” He produced his wallet. “I want to do you this kindness to show that not all men are pigs. You can consider it a gift given by someone who enjoys your music.”

“I don’t do gifts either.” I said coldly. “That ass had been paying a Ghoul to dress in all black and force his way backstage to give me things. He was even signing his notes with a Grucifix to trick me into talking to him. I’m done with that shit.” He blinked his mismatched eyes at me, once again confused.

My cigarette burned down to the filter, and I snuffed out the remaining embers on the bottom of my shoe before stomping the butt into the dirt. I made to open the stage door, but his gloved hand pushed against it, keeping it closed. He was strong for a small, chubby man.

“You really want to do this?” I glared at him, meeting his eyes. He looked back at me with an earnest and gentle expression. Men did not look at me like that. He had dazed me, and he took advantage of it.

“If you won’t accept a gift,” he started. “Then at least let me tell you how moving your music is.”

“Wh-what?” Very few people had told me to my face they liked my music, and even fewer had called it ‘moving’.

“You’re famous, even in Majesty, and rightfully so.” I opened my mouth to give my usual line about not doing this for the fame before he cut me off. “But I don’t think that’s why you do this, is it?” His words shocked into complete silence.

“I hope to see you again.” he reached into his wallet and produced a simple white business card and I dumbly took it. “If you need anything, please ask.” He gave me a polite nod, and he headed out of the alleyway. Once he stepped up to the curb, a car pulled up beside him. I watched as he opened the rear door, sat down, and said something to the driver before the car sped off into the night.

“Who the hell...?” I muttered under my breath, looking down at the card in my hand. It was stark white with a blocky black text with just a phone number and a name:

Copia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, a proper Birdy length chapter. 
> 
> Tomorrow, things will get a little more intense.


	4. Chapter 4 -- Dead in a Ditch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan sees something she shouldn't have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am very exhausted today, so there might be a few mistakes in today's chapter. I hope you still enjoy it!

The next morning, I sat on the edge of my mattress, legs splayed on the floor as I hunched over my torn dress, sewing the torn seam together by hand. 

“Entitled little asshole.” I grumbled through the sewing pins held in my teeth. “Hope you end up dead in a ditch.”

My closet only had 3 dresses that I considered fancy enough to perform in. Liz bought them for me when I first got hired. I wasn’t about to ask her for a new one or buy a new one myself. I considered a new dress a waste of money if I could fix the torn seams myself, even if I was a horrible seamstress. 

The final patch job would be passable, not something anyone would notice from the audience. Up close, it looked like I had been sewing with my toes. After putting my sewing kit back in my purse, I checked the time. I had wasted most of my day fixing my dress, so I’d have to rush to get ready and out the door for my show. Spitting curses, I shoved my feet in my heels and headed out the door, mended dress slung over my shoulder. 

My feet hit the pavement like thunder. Usually, I liked to get to Idolatrine before it opened, but I had gotten a late start. If a crowd had gathered by the time I got to the club, they would attach themselves to me like leeches. If that happened, I would find that Repugnant creep and murder him with my bare hands. 

There was a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time to do it. I darted past people on the sidewalks, not allowing anything to slow me down. A cigarette dangled from my lips, but my lighter wouldn’t strike while I was walking. Frustrated, I broke off the sidewalk and into a side alley to light it. 

The tall surrounding buildings kept the alley in a clammy, damp state, but it was refreshing in the summer heat. I leaned against the brick wall and hunched over to light my cigarette. I closed my eyes to take a deep inhale. Smoke trailed up to the sky as I exhaled and righted myself to continue my walk to the club. I moved barely an inch before a horrifying sight froze me in place. 

In the middle of the alleyway, half hidden, was the guy from the club. 

I wasn’t sure how I could tell, because there weren’t many features left to recognize. He was rotting away, sitting against the wall in a heap. He looked the Wicked Witch of the West after Dorothy poured water on her, dissolving into a pile of mush decorated with combat boots and a worn denim vest. If I hadn’t seen him the night before, I would have assumed the body was in the alley for weeks. Pieces of bone turned to ash before my eyes, his clothing decaying into nothing. 

The Black Death. 

The cigarette fell from my lips as I staggered back, my mouth open in a silent scream. I couldn’t breathe. What should I do? 

Pure fear and adrenaline made my legs move, sprinting down the alleyway, past the body, and out onto the sidewalk. My mind had just one focus: Get to the club. The club meant safety. 

I must have looked like a madwoman, sprinting in sweltering heat, poorly mended dress trailing behind me. But I just had to get out of there. 

When I reached Idolatrine, I tore through the alley to the stage door and ripped it open. Once I had slammed it shut, my body collapsed to the floor. I thumped my forehead against the door, panting. Adrenaline gave way to panic and crushing fear. My hot, heaving breaths were getting shorter and I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate. 

“Jordan?!” Liz had just walked backstage and saw me crumpled on the floor. “Lord below, what happened?” 

“Liz...” My voice came out as a squeak. I was so relieved to see a friendly face that I started crying. Large, hot tears fell down my face as I looked up at her. She reached a hand out to me and I gripped both her arms and clambered my way up to my feet. Deep worry was carved into Liz’s face as I trembled uncontrollably. She had never seen me be anything but snarky or rude. Seeing me having a breakdown must have been shocking. 

“Liz...” My breathing was still shallow rasps. “Th-The guy...”

“That guy from last night?” Liz asked. I nodded. “Did he harass you again!? I’ll sic Johnny on him.”

“No... no... Dead” I was wheezing and coughing, tears still flowing. I had Liz’s arms in a vice and my legs were barely supporting me. 

“Come sit.” Liz piloted me over to the settee where I collapsed with an audible thump. She peeled my hands off of her and watched me tremble and gasp for a moment. The worried look on her face deepened, and she went out into the club. I tried to pull myself together until Liz came back with a bottle of whisky and two glasses. She pulled up a table and chair and sat across from me, pouring a little for herself and a tall glass for me. 

I shotgunned the entire glass, slamming it back on the table and letting out a hiss as it burned all the way down my throat and into my stomach. Liz poured me another. 

We sat in silence for a while; me nursing my glass and Liz waiting patiently. The only sound around us was my steadying breaths and the distant clinking of Johnny cleaning glasses at the bar. 

“Black Death got him...” I murmured once I had collected myself. “The body was in the middle of an alley on my way here.”

“Oh, Jordan...” Liz gasped and reached across the table and grabbed my still-trembling hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” I was drained and everything was far away. It was like something had trapped me inside my mind and my body was piloting itself. 

“Are you sure?” Liz saw right through me, though it was obvious I wasn’t okay. “I can cancel tonight’s--”

“No.” I cut her off firmly, squeezing her hand. “You know I can’t.” 

“I can still pay you.” She offered. “We can call it a paid day off for you. You haven’t had a break in weeks, anyway.” 

“I don’t take money if I don’t work, Liz.” I glowered at her. 

“Jordan seeing something like that would traumatize anyone.” she tried to reason with me. “Do you think you’re in any state to perform?” 

“I will be in a few hours.” I finished my second glass of whisky. 

“Are you going to go on drunk?” Liz asked, incredulous. 

“No.” I scoffed. “Don’t worry about me. Just get ready to open.” Liz stared at me, emerald eyes looking deep into mine. My gaze held steady on her until she gave up and looked away. 

“I will come back here 15 minutes before showtime.” Liz stood and turned her back to me. “If I don’t think you can perform by then, I’m calling it off, okay?”

“Sure, sure.” I was already busying myself, fishing through my bag for my cigarettes. “Bring a few extras ash trays back here, yeah?” Liz just sighed and left through the wings of the stage and into the club, leaving me alone. 

Over the next few hours, I smoked almost an entire pack. The whiskey in my stomach clashed with the chemicals in my lungs and bloodstream and made my stomach turn. But I couldn’t stop. Whenever the buzz of the nicotine started to fade, a hole would dig into my chest and everything would feel distant again. I could still see the body behind my eyelids every time I blinked. But I had to stay present and calm to make sure Liz would let me go on. So, I smoked like my life depended on it. 

About a half hour before the curtain, only one cigarette remained in the box. I was walking circles around my dressing room, too hopped on nicotine and fear to sit down. I about jumped out of my skin when Liz barrelled through to the dressing room. 

“Cirice!” she looked terrified, and she used my stage name. Someone must have been with her. 

“Yeah?” I glanced over her shoulder to check if someone was there. Out of the shadows lumbered a Ghoul, a different build than the last one I had seen, but they were still in all black. A garment bag slung over their arm and a bouquet of white roses in their hands. My blood ran cold. I blinked, and the body was still rotting in my mind, just behind my eyelids. 

“Oh no, my friend.” I stepped towards the ghoul, hostile. I didn’t care what kind of trouble I would get in for fighting a Ghoul, I was not dealing with this. 

“Cirice...” Liz grabbed my arm, holding me back. 

“I don’t care if that Repugnant asshat paid you in advance or what, but that’s all over now. Go home.” The Ghoul’s head quirked to the side, confused. 

“Cirice...” Liz mumbled again, and I turned to her. “He came with this.” She held up a card, black Grucifix glaring up at me. 

“So he wrote a few notes in advance.” I scoffed. “Doesn’t matter, he’s dead and I’m not taking any more of his fucking gifts.” I turned to the Ghoul. “You hear me? He’s dead. Gone. Saw it myself. Now leave.”

“Cirice, stop!” Liz’s sharp tone made me pause. She pushed the card into my hands. 

“Read it.” She seemed to be holding her breath. 

_ Bella, _

_ I am sorry for what you had to see today. Such beautiful eyes should not have to witness something so terrible. _

_ I hope it does not hinder your ability to perform tonight. I look forward to hearing your voice. _

_ Please accept these gifts as a sign of my most sincere apologies. _

My blood ran cold. The Ghoul was still standing, head tilted to the side, waiting for a response. 

“Put them over there.” I gestured stiffly to my makeup vanity. The Ghoul placed the flowers next to the mirror and draped the garment bag over a chair and then left. Liz and I watched him go before we dared to breathe again. 

“It’s the Black Death.” Liz breathed, staring after the long-gone Ghoul. 

“Yeah.” I murmured, in a daze.

“What do we do?” She sounded as hopeless as I felt. 

“I don’t know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow, get ready for some feelings.


	5. Chapter 5 -- Weak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan's day gets even worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late-ish upload! I had my first full shift at work today and kinda forgot to post. 
> 
> Transcribing old phone books is oddly soothing.
> 
> I really hope you this chapter, though! 
> 
> \--Birdy

“We have to call off the show.” After a few minutes of terrified silence, Liz spoke up.

“You think The Black-Fucking-Death is gonna be happy about that, Liz?” I resumed my frantic pacing. “I’ve seen what he can do and I’m not about to upset him.” Liz folded her arms and bit her lip.

“Can you still do this?” Her voice was dripping with concern, too close to pity for my taste.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” I insisted.

“You can’t even stand still,” She pointed out.

“So it won’t be the best performance I’ve ever given.” I conceded. “But it’ll get done.” The light above the stage entrance blinked. One minute to show. I went to hit the stage, but Liz grabbed my arm as I passed her.

“Jordan. Are you  _ sure _ ?” Her sympathetic eyes bothered me. I didn’t need sympathy from her or from anyone else. I didn’t even respond as I pulled my arm from her grasp and stepped out on to the stage lights.

The second the lights blinded me, I was on auto-pilot. The band’s music started and my mouth moved as I sang, but it all felt a million miles away. Could anyone tell I was shaking? I had never been happier that the stage lights hit my glasses and obscured my eyes. If anyone saw them clearly, they would have seen fear.

After what I was sure was a lackluster performance, I exited the stage to see the white roses on my makeup table. I never thought someone could be afraid of flowers, but they made my blood run cold. Beside them was the garment bag slung over the back of a chair.

I unzipped the bag like a bomb would go off if I made any sudden movements. Gems gleamed up at me. I reached in and pulled out a gorgeous, ornate white gown. The red gemstones and accents swirled into beautiful patterns on the expensive fabric. They reminded me of blood. I shuddered and stuffed the gown back in the bag.

“You okay?” I jumped out of my skin as Johnny appeared behind me. He never left the bar during operating hours. Did Liz send him to check on me?

“You looked.... Bad.” He sighed, his massive arms crossing across his broad chest. “Liz told me what happened.”

Of course she did. 

“It wasn’t a glorious triumph of a performance, I’ll give you that.” I tried to brush it off, but he kept his dark eyes on me until I broke. “I’m a little shaken, but I’ll be fine. I just want to go home.”

“You really want to leave after what happened?” He asked. I understood his confusion.

“The dressing room, the stage, the entire club feels unsafe to me right now.” I admitted. “It’s where he has seen me the most, where he can watch me without me even knowing. I want to be in a small, closed space where I know he can’t be.” Johnny contemplated my words before nodding.

“I can drive you. Give me a minute.”

“You still have a few hours behind the bar." I stated. "I don’t want Liz to lose money because her bartender bailed.” Johnny went to protest. “Besides, maybe a nice walk will clear my head.” 

“Miss Clarke.” Johnny’s deep voice got even deeper. “Was anyone else in that alley when you found that Repugnant punk?” I shook my head. “The Black Death, whoever he is, had some way of knowing you were there. He may have eyes on you now.”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” Panic shot through my heart. Idolatrine wasn’t safe, but walking by myself at 2AM might as well have been suicide. As much as I despised it, I would have to accept Johnny’s help.

“Okay, fine.” I sighed. “Let me smoke real quick.” I snatched my bag up and reached in for my last cigarette. As I fished around for the pack, something pointed jabbed into my palm. I pulled out the business card I had gotten the night before. I crossed my dressing room to the stage door as I looked it over. Plain white, just the name Copia and a phone number. He looked rich. I wondered if he had some kind of security detail I could borrow.

Like I’d ever ask for that.

I pushed open the stage door and felt resistance as it hit something. I yelped in shock and staggered back. Johnny crossed the room in two massive strides and pushed the door open.

“Can I help you?” His broad back hid whoever he was talking to.

“I was looking for Miss Cirice.” The accent sounded familiar. Peeking around Johnny, I saw the blinding white suit I had seen the night before.

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

“She doesn’t--” Johnny started to tell him off before I grabbed his shoulder.

“It’s fine.” I muttered, and Johnny looked gob smacked. I ignored his look and turned my attention to this Copia person, whoever he was.

“What do you want?” I stepped in front of Johnny but stayed in the doorframe. He was wearing a black hat with white accents to match his suit.

“Are you all right?” More concern and sympathy I didn’t want, this time from someone I didn’t even know.

“Yeah. Fine.” I said curtly. “Do you need something?”

“No, but--” 

“Bye, then.” I pushed past him to get into the alley, but he snatched up my wrist before I got too far. I saw red and ripped my arm away from him.

“Do  _ not _ touch me.” I pointed harshly at him before I stormed off into the alley to grab a quick smoke so I could leave.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but you looked...” Copia clambered after me. I turned on my heel and glared at him. For as powerful as he looked in his suit, it was easy to make him shrink away from my gaze.

“Yeah, I performed like shit. I don’t need a reminder. Leave.” I barked the command at him and he froze.

“Miss...” I was getting annoyed at his persistence. “You haven’t stopped shaking.” I looked to my hand holding my purse. It was vibrating. I hadn’t stopped trembling since that afternoon and just stopped noticing.

“Yeah, and?” I tried to hide my embarrassment behind my usual bristly attitude.

“I offered you my assistance last night, Miss Cirice. If something has happened, I would like to help.”

“Something did happen but...” my voice faltered and I coughed to hide it. “But it’s fine. I’m fine.” I didn’t sound convincing.

“Do you have a way home tonight?” I hated the way he was looking at me. It was a gentle, concerned look, but it got under my skin.

“Let me take you home. Please.” When I didn’t answer, he pushed the issue. Usually when men offered to take me home, there was a gross, slimy undertone. Copia was genuine and that confused me.

Thinking about it, having Copia take me home was a little more ideal than Johnny. I wouldn’t be putting Liz out that way.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I thought.

I could take him in a fight if worse came to worst.

“Okay.” I said. “But you won’t take me all the way home. You’ll take me close enough so I don’t walk far, all right? I don’t want you seeing where I live.” That seemed to be enough for him.

“Let me get my things.” He let me pass him and tried to follow me through the stage door.

“No.” I put my hand firmly on his chest. “Pull your car up here. I’ll come to meet you.” He nodded, taking off his hat to give a slight bow, and headed off down the alley.

“You sure about that, Miss Clarke?” Johnny eyed me warily. “Not like you to take offers from strangers.”

“It’ll be fine.” I assured him. “Besides, you saw him. He dresses nice, but he’s got no spine. Plus, I have my switchblade in my purse.” I changed out of my stage dress behind a folding screen in the corner of my dressing room. “You get his license plate number and if I don’t call from my place in about 45 minutes, you can call the cops.” Johnny was still squinting at me as I finished changing and hung up my performance dress.

“It’ll be fine, Johnny Boy.” I patted his shoulder.

He didn’t need to know that I wanted to learn more about Copia. A man with his money shows up in a dive bar just to listen to my music? The way he spoke to me was also so different from how anyone else did. It piqued my interest.

Copia’s polished black car looked out of place in the rundown alley. It looked like it cost more than any house I had ever lived in, but that wasn’t saying much. Copia was leaning against the side, thumbs twiddling while he waited. When he saw me, he straightened up and opened the rear passenger door of the car, gesturing for me to enter.

I entered the lavish car and glanced back at Johnny, who was looking at the licence plate of the car as conspicuously as possible. He wanted Copia and whoever the driver was to know that he had seen it.

I slid into the car, moving to the far side of the seats, and Copia leaned in to look at me.

“Where are we going?” He asked. I gave him the address of an office building a block away from my apartment complex. He repeated the address to the driver in the front seat before he entered the car, closing the door behind him. There was a divider between us and the driver so I couldn’t see them.

Copia kept a respectful distance, staying on the far side of the tan, plush leather seats. He didn’t make conversation, just kept his hands in his lap and looked out the window.

Who the fuck was this man? 

He looked over to check on me and caught me staring at him in disbelief. I snapped my head away and looked out my respective window.

“What?” Copia asked. 

“Nothing.” I muttered.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No.” My cheeks started burning.

“What were you looking at?”

“Nothing. Zoning out, I guess.”

"All right.” he didn’t believe me, but didn’t push it.

We arrived at the address I gave him and Copia opened the door, holding out his hand to help me out. I brushed it off and exited the car unassisted, not wanting to take any more help from him than necessary. Copia awkwardly cleared his throat and pulled his hand away.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right from here, Miss Cirice?” He asked.

“Don’t say that name.” I hushed him and Copia muttered an apology. No one knew ‘Cirice’ lived in the area and I wanted to keep it that way.

“I’m fine from here.” 

“If you need anything else, Miss, please ask.” Copia took off his hat and gave another polite bow before entering the car and closing the door behind him.

I waited for Copia’s car to drive away before I started to walk, not wanting him to see what direction I was going.

“I need a cigarette…” I grumbled. Reaching to my side for my purse I felt… nothing.

Goddammit, I had left my bag in the car.

I turned around and started running. The lights blared a bright red as it slowed. They must have seen me or Copia had found my bag on the seat. The rear door popped open and Copia stepped out.

And then I was on the ground.

My foot hit a deep groove in a patch of dirt and twisted hard, sending me toppling forward and onto my shoulder.

And I thought my night couldn’t get any worse.

“Miss Cir-Miss, are you all right?” Copia’s shoes were at eye level as I clutched my ankle.

“Yep. Fine. Great.” I said through clenched teeth as my ankle throbbed with a white, hot pain. 

Had I broken it?

I couldn’t go to a doctor. This could put me up for weeks.

I wouldn’t be able to perform.

_ Russel. _

The pain and my panic make tears sting my eyes. Copia reached down to grab my arm and help me up, but I pushed him away. It was embarrassing enough that he had seen me fall, and I didn’t want more of his help. I could get up on my own.

I planted my good foot on the ground, placing my hands on it to push myself up. So far so good. I planted the injured foot on the ground and a thousand knives dug into my ankle. The pain was so intense that I toppled back onto the ground, my glasses falling off of my face and into the dirt.

“Miss!” Copia sounded distraught.

“I’m fine!” My hands scrambled in the dirt until I found my glasses and shoved them back on my face “Just give me my bag.”

“Miss, you can’t walk. Are you going to crawl home?” He was clutching my purse in his hands.

“If I have to.” 

“I can’t let you do that.” He held my bag closer to his chest.

“I don’t want your help.” My ankle throbbed harder with every beat of my heart and I just wanted to go home. A sprained ankle was nothing. I’d been through worse.

“Why are you doing this?” 

“I don’t take help that I don’t need.” I glared up at him.

“But you do need help.” 

“No, I don’t. Give me my bag.” I lunged forward to snatch my purse from his hands and he took a step back. He grimaced as I fell forward into the dirt.

“You do.” He gave a sigh of disbelief, concern all over his face. “Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I don’t like owing people, okay?” I snapped. “I don’t want anyone’s pity, either. So, stop looking at me like that, give me my bag, and leave me alone!” I felt vulnerable, and it made me even more angry. I wanted him to get back into his car and drive away.

“Forgive me...” Copia sighed, taking a step forward. I scrambled backwards before he effortlessly scooped me up in his arms in a bridal carry.

_ “You fucker, let me go!” _ I thrashed and pounded my fists against his chest and he didn’t even falter. It was like hitting a brick wall but I didn’t let up.

"You don’t have to carry me, I’m not a fucking child! Let me go!” I pushed harder on his chest.

“Where am I taking you?” His voice was calm and even.

“Fucking nowhere. You are putting me down  _ right now! _ ” I was using all of my strength to wiggle and push my way out of his grasp, but he didn’t budge.

“Do you not like looking weak, Miss?” The honest question made me freeze, stopping my assault to gawp at him.

“What?” 

“Last night and tonight you got hostile when I noticed that you were shaking and now you’re furious over being injured...”

“No, I...” I searched for some excuse and came up with nothing. Any witty response I would have had vanished. I stared at him for a little longer before resigning myself to my fate.

“Go that way a block... brown apartment complex on the left.” I pointed towards the right direction. Copia nodded and started walking, waving to his driver behind us to have him stay where he was.

I circled my arms around his neck to keep myself from falling and injuring myself further. My face was a dark scowl and Copia looked startled when he looked down at me for a moment. This was the worst day of my life. I was drained, helpless, and miserable.

I just wanted it to be over.

“What apartment?” Copia asked as we entered the lobby of my apartment complex.

“I’ve got it from here.” I pushed against his chest so he would let me down, but he only held me tighter.

“You will not crawl your way to your apartment.” Copia insisted. Too tired to fight anymore, I gave him the apartment number, and he called the elevator.

“You’re a strong woman.” He muttered as the elevator rose to my floor. “This doesn’t change that.”

“Don’t give me a fucking pep talk.” I grumbled. I didn’t want someone to make me feel better with false niceties.

“Not a pep talk.” He stated. “Just letting you know how I see you. How others see you.”

We reached my door and Copia reached into my purse to get my keys and I started struggling again.

“Hey, hey, hey what are you doing? This is far enough!” I started panicking. Usually I wasn’t ashamed of the condition I lived in. I didn’t let Johnny or Liz in to keep them from worrying about me or pestering me about it. But thinking of Copia, with his tailored suit, polished shoes, and fancy car standing in the middle of my bare apartment filled me with a painful shame.

“I want to make sure you get settled in all right.” Copia tone was assuring, but I struggled harder.

“No! No, put me down, I don’t want more help!”

“I told you I don’t think lesser of you for--”

“Please!” I begged, desperation in my voice. “Please... Please put me down.” My entire body, down to my soul itself, felt battered and bruised. I couldn’t take another hit.

“A-All right.” Copia gingerly set me down. I teetered on my good foot and he handed me my purse. He stood by, waiting for me to get inside. I leaned against the door, my injured foot hovering off the ground, as I fished around for my keys. I unlocked my door and twisted the doorknob. Copia went to help me open it, but I put up my hand to stop him.

Doorknob in one hand for support, I hopped on one foot into the room. I pressed my hand blindly on the wall until I found the light-switch and flicked it on. I wobbled and my other foot touched the ground to keep me from falling. The searing pain shot up my spine and I fell to the floor, the door swinging open as I let go of it to catch myself.

“Fuck!” I shouted and pounded the floor, not being able to contain my frustration and pain. Tears slicked my eyes, and I knew I had to make Copia leave. I wouldn’t let him see me cry on top of all this.

Copia was kneeling next to me in an instant and I held up my hand to tell him to stop.

“Go… Please.” My voice warbled.

“Let me at least get you to bed.”

“It’s right there.” I pointed at the bare mattress against the wall of the small room. “I can make it. Just please...” 

Copia stood, and my heart lurched as he looked around the room. I pulled myself to my knees and made the short crawl to the edge of the mattress, putting my head in my hands as I prepared for his inevitable questions.

“I don’t understand...” Copia murmured. “Does Idolatrine... do they not pay you?” He sounded indignant.

“They pay me fine.” I sighed, staring at the beaten floorboards under my feet. “Better than fine.” I admitted, running my hands through my hair and taking my glasses off so I wouldn’t be able to see him.

“But you don’t have--” 

“There are a lot of things I don’t have.” I cut him off with a sneer.

“Your ankle, though...” He gestured. “You should elevate it. Do you have a pillow or something?”

“No.” 

“Do you... Do you sleep on that bare mattress? No blanket or anything?”

“Yep. Can you go now?” I wanted this to end.

“Some painkillers at least? Some ice?” I shook my head. “Not even ice?”

“My freezer doesn’t fucking work, all right?!” I spat, my shame turning to rage in my chest.

“If they’re paying you...” I braced myself for the question. “Where’s that money going?” I’m sure that, in that moment, he thought I had some kind of raging drug habit or rampant alcoholism.

“My brother...” I breathed. I could hear and feel Copia kneel next to me, but kept my head down to save myself from seeing the look on his face. I hoped my dirty floors weren’t ruining his nice suit.

“He’s sick. Real sick. All the money goes to him and my mom in Spöksonat.” I hated talking about this, but I was so beaten down by the day that I didn’t care anymore.

“Be right back.” After a few moments of silence, Copia stood and turned for the door.

“No.” I grabbed on to his pant leg, making him stop.

“You can’t just--” He sighed, exasperated. “I’m just getting a few essentials, Miss Cirice. I can’t let you live like this.”

“Please don’t.” The tears were back and close to overflowing. “You’ve done enough. Please... no more.”

“But--” 

“Leave!” The dam broke and tears dripped down my cheeks and onto the ground. “I can’t take any more. Please.” Copia was silent for a moment.

“Can I come back tomorrow? To see you are okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” I let go of his pants and laid back on the mattress, curling up in a ball. “Just go.” I closed my eyes and listened as Copia took the few short steps to the door. He hesitated for a moment and I was about to yell at him again to leave.

“Do you want me to turn the light off?”

“Yeah.” I murmured.

The lights clicked off, and Copia closed the door, leaving me in darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter makes me very emotional and I love it a lot.  
I'm not crying, you're crying, shut up.


	6. Chapter 6 -- Just Unlucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan has to get back to Idolatrine somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
Yesterday was a rough one, so I missed an upload. Sorry about that! But I will upload chapter 7 in a few hours, so we're still all caught up.  
I really appreciate you reading. I love this fic a lot and I hope you do too.  
\--Birdy

Sunlight was just peeking through my bare windows when my eyes blinked open. My head hurt, my shoulder hurt, everything hurt. My ankle had stopped throbbing, but there was a dull pain in my entire leg when I tried to move. Ice would have been a good idea. Maybe I should have let Copia...

No. I’d been through worse. A sprained ankle wouldn’t kill me. 

I peeled myself off on my mattress and onto my hands and knees, crawling my way to the bathroom. I had to grip onto the sink to pull myself up. Once I righted myself, I tested my ankle. I could put some weight on it, but not much. The walk to work would be a bitch, but I’d manage. I’d just have to leave a little earlier than usual. 

I was gross, having slept in the dress I wore the night before. Dirt covered me head to toe from my fall. Looking in the mirror, I saw a dirt-caked woman with a rat’s nest of hair and I scowled at her. 

I hobbled my way into my shower and turned on the water. I sat on the floor while I washed myself to keep unneeded stress off of my ankle. When the water ran clear, I shakily brought myself to my feet. 

This would be one hundred times easier if I had something lean on, like a cane. But Dark Lord knows I didn’t keep one handy, and I wasn’t about to get one. I pulled my shower curtain aside, and an idea hit me: my shower curtain rod was removable.

I reached up and tugged, making the rod lose the tension that kept it up on the wall. The rod and the curtain attached to it fell down with a loud clatter. I pulled the rod away from the curtain and left it in a wet bundle on the ground. I pulled myself up using the curtain rod and leaned against it. Sturdy enough. And if someone had anything to say about my choice of walking stick, I would beat them with it. 

It would work for now. 

I limped around my apartment, getting ready to leave for Idolatrine. I was preparing myself for the walk when there was a polite knock on the door. 

ICopia stood in my doorway, dressed in a red suit and matching red leather shoes. I fought the urge to slam the door in his face. Sure, he had helped me a lot, but in a way that made me want to hide away in embarrassment. Being carried around like some helpless maiden? That wasn’t me. 

“Yeah?” I leaned against the door to keep myself steady. 

“Oh,” Copia was surprised when I opened the door.

“Can I help you?” I wanted this conversation to be over quickly so I could start heading to work. A shorter conversation also allowed for fewer chances for him to bring up last night. 

“I wanted to check if you were all right.” He was twiddling his thumbs again. He saw me notice and forced his hands in his pockets. 

“Well, I am doing just _great_.” Any other day, I would have pushed past him and went on my way, but I walked at the speed of a garden snail with my injured foot so it would be a less than glamorous exit. I needed to get him to leave on his own. 

“Anything else? I need to leave for work.” 

“You don’t have a car though.” I had confused Copia. 

“No, I do not.” 

“So you just... walk everywhere?” I wondered if he ever had to walk a day in his life.

“That is what people without cars do, yes.” 

“But, your ankle--”

“Is feeling fine. Never better. Please leave.” 

“There is no way that… What is that?” He glimpsed my makeshift walking stick, and I gripped it tighter. 

“It’s a cane... sort of.” 

“So you can’t walk unassisted?” Copia frowned. 

“The important thing is that I can, and will, walk.” Copia stared at the rod in my hand, his eyes flickering to me and then back again. 

“If you’re thinking about helping me, I don’t need it.” I felt a petty anger in the pit of my stomach. He’d done enough. I told him as much. 

“Look...” I gave an exasperated sigh when Copia remained silent. “Thanks or whatever for last night. But I told you that you didn’t need to do anything else. You said you wanted to see if I’m okay, and I am. So, I’ll see you later.” I went to close the door and Copia put his hand out to stop me. 

“At least let me give you a ride.” he insisted. I pushed on the door and he held it fast. 

“You would really prefer walking?” He looked right into my eyes and I glanced away.

“Yes.” I was being stubborn and childish, but I refused to take anything else from him. I had gotten this far without some rich asshole’s help and I would continue on without it. 

Copia didn’t budge, and I tried to push past him. He blocked my path with his arm and, when I tried to duck under, he wrapped his arm around my waist. 

“I swear I will beat you with this stick if you don’t let me go this fucking instant.” I swung my faux cane around to show I meant it. I rarely gave out warnings, but Copia was a nice guy who meant well. He just didn’t know how to take a hint. 

“I have been hit with worse, _cara_.” I squinted at him. He was stating a fact, not bragging. 

“You’re really this dead set on driving me?” I stopped struggling, but Copia still kept a loose grip on me. 

“I insist.” 

My lips pressed together in a thin line. Sure, I wasn’t looking forward to the long walk to Idolatrine, but it spared my pride. Showing up in some flashy car felt gross. However, I didn’t think I could wiggle out of Copia’s grasp or outrun him. He’d backed me into a corner. 

“Fine.” I was still glaring at him, but Copia looked relieved. He let go of me and I stood back up. “But after this ride, nothing else. At all. Deal?” Copia hesitated for a moment, but nodded. 

“Let me get my things.” My makeshift cane thunked against the floor as I moved around my apartment. Just had to grab my show dress and my bag and--

“Did that come from your shower?” I jumped out of my skin at the sound of Copia’s voice behind me. He had walked in and was looking around. He spotted my shower curtain in a sad, wet pile on the floor. I got instantly defensive. 

“Did I say you could come in here?”

“Did it?” 

“Is it any if your fucking business if it did?”

“I suppose not.” Copia shrugged, but stayed in the middle of the room. 

“Go wait in the hall. I don’t want you here.” I was teetering forward to pick my bag up off the ground without putting weight on my bad foot. 

“Why?” I shot him another glare, and he didn’t flinch. 

“I just don’t, so get out.” I said through gritted teeth as grabbed my bag and stood back up all without my injured foot touching the ground. 

“Are you ashamed? Do you think I would judge you?” 

“No more questions. Let’s go.” The tips of my ears turned pink, but otherwise my face was neutral. He didn’t need to know how right he was. 

Copia tried to place his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the hall to help keep me from falling and I pushed him off. 

“I said only the ride, remember? No other help.” I huffed, trying to pick up my pace. 

“No, you said no more help after I take you to the club.” He pointed out. “That has not happened yet, so I can still offer my assistance.” 

“Oh, fuck off with your loopholes.” I spat at him as I pushed to button to call the elevator. 

I had to push Copia off of me a few more times between the elevator and the parking lot. Seeing his polished car amongst the beaten up jalopies everyone else in South Zenith drove made me cringe. I hated getting special treatment. 

Copia entered the car first, took my curtain rod, and helped me hop my way into the back seat. I closed the door behind me and Copia knocked on the glass partition between the driver and us. 

I was hoping our drive would be as quiet as the last one, but I had no such luck. 

“May I see your ankle?” Copia asked. 

“No, you may not.” I frowned.

“Please?” 

“Are you going to bug me about it the whole ride?” 

“If I must.” 

“Fine.” I slipped my shoe off my swollen foot. “As long as it will get you to shut up.”

Copia delicately picked up my foot and placed it in his lap. I leaned back, arms crossed in annoyance. He ran his hand over my ankle and I winced. He tried to rotate my foot, and I squirmed, trying not to cry out in pain. Copia looked worried at my reaction. The joint was stiff and the surrounding area was hot and swollen. It wasn’t broken, at least I didn’t think so, but it was a nasty sprain. 

Copia reached in a side door compartment and produced some bandages and a container of ice.

“Woah, hey, what are you doing?” I said, scooting back and pulling my foot away. 

“I just want to wrap it to keep the swelling down and put it on ice for a minute.” He explained. 

“I don’t need that.” I protested. “I’ve had a sprained ankle before and I’ve walked it off.” Instead of fighting, Copia just kept looking at me. I didn’t like silence, and this was even worse. I sat and squirmed for a minute before I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Fuck! Fine! Do your stupid wrap bullshit.” Copia nodded and went to work methodically wrapping my ankle with bandages. 

“Are you this annoying with all the girls, or am I just unlucky?” I jabbed, and that made him chuckle. I wasn’t sure if making him laugh was annoying or satisfying. We sat in silence as Copia continued to play nurse.

“Are you upset with me?” Copia’s voice was a murmur over the sound of the car. 

“Why do you care?” I asked. 

“I like you, Miss Cirice.” The hair on my arms bristled, and I went to pull away. Was he going to be some creep, too? I had my fill with the dead Repugnant grunt. Thinking of him still brought the clear picture of his body into my mind and I shivered. 

“No, no,” Copia, flustered, held out his hand to calm me. “I like your music, I’ve told you as such. I also admire how strong you are. Stubborn, yes, but very strong.” 

“What are you getting at?” I was still on edge and he could sense that. In my experience, compliments from men were rarely genuine, and meant to soften you up. Give them what they want, and those words suddenly mean nothing. 

“I mean that I would like us to be friends, Miss Cirice.” 

My eyes stared into his, trying to get a read on him. I didn’t have many friends to begin with. When anyone sees how stubborn I am, they run for the hills. Johnny and Liz were only around me because we worked in the same place. But Copia had seen me at my absolute worst, screaming like a petulant child, and he wanted to be my friend after that? 

I continued to stare at him as he finished wrapping my ankle and pressed a cloth full of ice on the swollen joint. He seemed fine with sitting in silence while I thought. The average person would like his thoughtfulness, but it made me apprehensive. 

We spent the rest of the drive in silence. When we came to a stop, and the engine turned off, Copia exited the car. I struggled to get out, refusing his help yet again. 

“Car ride is over, that means you’re done.” I insisted as I hopped my way out of the car and steadied myself on my walking stick. 

Much to my amazement and annoyance, Liz and Johnny stood outside the stage door, waiting for me. 

“Did you tell them?” I shot Copia an angry look and he shrugged

“Are you okay?” Liz’s eyes were huge. She looked scared. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. The stick is an aesthetic choice.” I teased. “You think the audience will like it?” Liz frowned and punched my shoulder. 

“We were so worried! You didn’t call or anything! Mr. Copia came back and said that you had hurt yourself...” I scowled at Copia again but he was impassive. “I told Johnny that we should go take care of you, but Mr. Copia said you were fine.”

“What if he was lying, and he’d murdered me in some back alley somewhere?” Copia flinched at that. 

“I would have killed him myself. It would have worked out.” Johnny spoke up from his place against the brick wall, arms folded. 

“I best be leaving.” Copia chimed in, clearing his throat. I turned to look at him and he grabbed my hand, kissing my knuckles. “If you will still perform tonight, I will be here.” The corners of his mouth turned up into an almost invisible smile. 

“The show must go on, yeah?” I knew Liz would fight me on that, but it would be harder for her to cancel the show if I told people to show up. 

“Take care of yourself until then, Miss Cirice.” He bowed his head and opened his car door. 

“Jordan...” I muttered, and he stopped.

“Excuse me?” Copia blinked at me, confused. 

“My name. It’s Jordan. Thanks for your help.” I heard Liz gasp behind me and a blush of embarrassment bloomed on my face. I tried to ignore it. 

“Happy to help, Miss Jordan.” His small smile widened. 

“Just don’t do it again.” I added as he ducked his head and entered his car. 

As the car backed out of the alley, I turned and limped my way towards the stage door. Johnny’s expression was harder to read but Liz looked shocked, her eyes even bigger and mouth open. 

“What are you looking at?” I pushed my way past both her and Johnny to enter the club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using a shower curtain rod as a walking stick? Iconic. 
> 
> For real, though, has anyone seen that in a movie or book? I'd like to see how they wrote it because there are only so many synonyms for curtain rod.


	7. Chapter 7 -- The Show Must Go On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idolatrine gets a few visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, back on track! Only three chapters left! That's scary to think about.

“What was all that Jordan? What happened?” Liz followed behind me as I started to get ready. 

“Not much. Made an ass out of myself, but what else is new?” I shrugged, leaning on every surface to make sure I didn’t fall and hurt myself even more. 

“That’s not what I’m asking!” Liz huffed. 

“Whatever could you mean then, Miss Elizabeth?” I gave her a shit-eating grin. 

“You thanked someone. Told him your name. That’s important.” Johnny muttered and closed the door behind him, moving to stand behind Liz. When I didn’t respond, Liz came and tugged on my arm. 

“You should come sit.” she said. “You’re here early, anyway. Come eat and put your foot up.” I went to refuse, but she looked so sad. I had really worried her. A small pang of guilt hit me right in my heart and I agreed. 

Liz wouldn’t let go of me the entire walk to the front of the house. She led me down to a booth and grabbed cushions from chairs to elevate my foot. 

“You don’t have to put yourself out.” I muttered. “I’m fine.” Liz called for Johnny to get some ice and I grabbed Liz’s wrist. 

“That’s enough. I’ve got it from here.” She turned her sad green eyes to me again. “Okay... Just the ice. Nothing else.” I conceded. Was I getting soft? Had I injured my brain in the fall, too? 

I stayed in my booth in the corner while the band set up. They rarely saw me outside of performances since I hid in my dressing room, so it shocked them to see me. Every single one of them asked me if I was okay. I was getting more and more annoyed with every well-meaning question. No one needed to worry about me. I didn’t need their sympathy. 

“How are you doing?” Liz handed me an outrageously large plate of pasta to eat. She’d been making the kitchen staff double up my meals since she found out I only ate at the club. 

“I swear to the Lord below, Liz,” I sighed, leaning back against the stiff booth cushions. “The next person who asks if I’m okay is getting a punch in the throat.” She laughed. “I’m serious!” I insisted. 

The front doors opened and Liz turned towards the noise.

“Excuse me, we don’t open until — oh.” All the color drained from her face. I adjusted myself in my seat to look over the booth’s seats. 

Two men had entered the club. One was bald, wearing sunglasses, and a tailored 3 piece suit with green accents and a green pocket square. He wasn’t wearing his paint, but anyone who had ever seen a business magazine knew what Giovanni Emeritus looked like.

The other, raven haired, dressed in a more casual purple button-up shirt and white pants, his jacket slung over his arm. The sunlight from the doors back-lit the two of them but I could still see the stark white of his face paint. Papa III, Dante Emeritus. 

Not one Papa, but two had entered a shitty club in South Zenith in broad daylight. 

“Oh, shit.” I muttered and Liz hit my arm. 

Did they find out I saw the body? 

Did they think I was a liability? 

Would they send two Papas to kill a club singer? 

“C-Can I h-help you?” She stammered, her already soft voice even softer. 

“Yes,” The second Emeritus brother spoke, standing still in the entryway while his brother wandered around the club. “May we speak to the singer here?” 

“C-Cirice?”

“_Si, si_ the one on the posters.” Dante circled the room, inspecting every table and booth.

“Uh, well, she’s...” Her eyes darted between me, reclined in the booth, Giovanni in the doorway, and the roaming Dante. 

“I’m here.” I sat up straighter and gave a little wave. “Forgive me for not standing.” Papa III was in my line of sight now and able to see my wrapped foot on top of the mountain of cushions.

“_Bella,_ are you all right?” He frowned. Dante came and took a seat opposite me. Liz’s eyes were on me, daring me to hit a Papa. 

“Yes, fine.” I fought to keep my tone light. “Accidents happen, you know how it is.” Did he, though? Could the Papas be injured? 

“C-C-Can I get you both a drink?” Liz asked as Giovanni took the seat next to his brother. 

“Wine.” Papa II said curtly. I bit back a laugh. The best wine in the club wasn’t even that good and I knew Liz was panicking. I would have to get them to leave before she had time to bring it. 

“Can I help you?” I spoke to them to distract them from Liz scurrying away. She would be gone for a while, freaking out in the kitchen with Johnny. 

“We come to offer an invitation.” Papa III tented his fingers and smiled at me. 

“Excuse me?” What would the Emeritus family want with me? 

“Our father is hosting an event in two weeks and would like you to be the headlining performer.”

“Me?” I gasped so hard I almost choked on my spit. “I-I’m sorry but... Why?” Dante let out a hearty laugh while his more stoic brother removed his sunglasses and placed them in his breast pocket. 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’re quite the talk of the town, Miss Cirice.” Papa II leaned back and crossed his legs, folding his arms across his chest. “To put it simply, our father is interested in you.”

“Has he even heard my music?” I found it hard to believe. We had released no official recordings of my songs because of the expense of producing a record. All of my popularity was word of mouth and Liz’s advertising skills. 

“That is why we’re here.” Dante looked excited, and that filled me with dread. “We wanted to see you for ourselves, then we report back to our father.” Anxiety shot through my chest like shrapnel from a bullet. I would have preferred being shot, actually. Singing for the Papas was way out of my wheelhouse. I wasn’t at that level. Not by a long shot. 

“I-I’m sorry, but I think you have the wrong person for the job.” Giovanni’s face remained unreadable while Dante’s became a mask of confusion. 

“Do you not want to?” The Third asked. 

“I-It’s not that.” 

Liz returned with their drinks. It looked like they would be here for a while, so it was inevitable. 

“Then what is the issue?” I couldn’t tell if Papa II was mad or not and that set me on edge. 

“I-Issue?” Liz shot me a look. “Cirice, what have you been saying?”

“We’ve requested she perform at an event for our father, Nihil.”

“Well, she accepts, obviously!” I placed my hand on Liz’s arm and she froze. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m just a singer off the streets performing in a mid-tier club in South Zenith. I’m not exactly headlining material.” 

“Mid-tier?” Liz grumbled.

“That’s being generous, Liz.” That earned me another glare. 

“We will be the judges of your ability, Miss.” Papa II insisted, and my mouth dried up.

“I-I... Well... The show might be cancelled tonight. Injury and all that.” Liz’s look of shock burned into the side of my face. I’d never even suggested cancelling a show. But I felt like I would be a disappointment to them. I wouldn’t meet their standards. I thought highly of my abilities, sure, but not that highly. 

“We can just have you sit.” Liz offered. “It won’t be the most dynamic performance, but you can at least sing for them.” She looked at me imploringly. “The show must go on, right?” I bit my lip before nodding.

“Yeah, I’ll be able to do something at least.” I agreed. “It couldn’t be as bad as last night.” I muttered under my breath and Liz elbowed me. 

“We will take into account your, eh, hindrances.” Dante flashed me a smile. “We look forward to it, _Be__llissima Cantante_.” My ears pricked up.

“If you will excuse me.” I said, reaching for my walking stick on the ground and maneuvering my way up to a standing position. “I have to finish getting ready. Doors open in about 20 minutes.” Both of them nodded. Liz tensed. She’s had to occupy two Papas for 20 minutes.

“Is that a...” Papa II pointed at what I was leaning on. “A shower curtain rod?”

I prayed for the floor to swallow me up. 

“Uh, yeah.” I chuckled awkwardly. “It was a sudden injury, and we had to make do.” The brothers’ mismatched eyes were boring into me. 

“Liz, want to help me get back there?” I offered her a way out and she gladly took it, taking my arm and helping me hobble backstage. 

“Jordan what the fuck was that?” Liz demanded once I got settled on the couch in my dressing room. 

“It’s not a good fit, Liz.” I muttered. 

“But this is a big break for you. For both of us!” I shrugged and Liz put her head in her hands. 

“What about Russel?” 

“What about him?” 

“Think of what kind of pay for could get from the Emeritus family, just for singing your normal set.” 

“A whole fucking lot.” My eyes widened at the possibility. 

“Enough to pay his treatments for months, Jordan.” Liz was practically begging on her knees. “You’d make enough to be able to use your paycheck to take care of yourself.” 

“I still wouldn’t.” I snickered. 

“That’s beside the point!” Liz took one of my hands in both of her’s. “Please, please, do your best.” Her sad eyes were back, and I had to look away. 

“I always do my best on stage.” 

“Why you’re dragging your feet on this?” Liz squeezed my hand. “You can do this. All of Zenith will see how great you are.” 

“I doubt that.” I said and Liz frowned. “But I will try.”

“That’s all I can ask for.” 

The sound of footsteps hitting the wood floorboards cut off our conversation. My nightly visitor, a Ghoul in all black, arrived with another bouquet. This one was yellow and white daisies with yellow roses scattered between them. The card with the black Grucifix was sticking out of the top. 

I went to stand and accept them, but Liz stopped me and took them herself. 

“Thank you...” She mumbled, looking down at the Ghoul’s shoes. The Ghoul just walked off like they always did. 

Liz handed me the flowers, and I picked off the card. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to read it. I stared at the Gucifix on the back as if it would give me some answers. When it didn’t, I flipped the card over. 

_ Break a leg, Bella. _

Oh hardy-har-har. 

That confirmed that The Black Death had been spying on me somehow. It being Papa III seemed likely. He had seen my injury and had the Ghouls to spare. Why keep it a secret, though? Why not tell me himself? 

The light in my dressing room blinked, cutting off my train of thought.

I didn’t think I would get any answers tonight, anyway.

From the wings, I could see a chair on the stage. I would just have to make the walk to that chair and then back when the set ended. That was managable.

“The show must go on.... Yeah... Right...” For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to perform. But I had to. For Liz and for Russel. I took a final deep breath before taking a shaky step on to the stage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I googled what flowers meant 'get well'. Hopefully I got them right. 
> 
> I need to make more opportunities for myself to write the phrase 'hardy-har-har'.


	8. Chapter 8 -- Canary in a Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan decides if she will perform for the Papas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on the home stretch! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

When I hobbled offstage, the Papas were waiting for me in my dressing room. 

“_Brava, brava!_” The Third stood and clapped. I didn’t know if he was being genuine or patronizing me.

“So you liked her?” Liz squeaked from a chair in the corner. Had she been waiting backstage with the Papas? 

“You are talented, Miss Cirice.” The Second was eyeing me behind sunglasses. I was glad for the barrier that hid his striking eyes. Getting praise from a Papa should be the highlight of my career but it filled me with dread.

“We could do business,” Giovanni continued. “We would have to see you perform in a less hindered way, of course.” 

I sat through the entire set, not being able to walk and hit my cues. I had hoped that my performing while seated would bore Giovanni and Dante and they would drop this whole ‘performing in Majesty’ idea. 

“But,” Papa III cut into the conversation. He had draped himself over my couch, the perfect picture of smoothness and ease. “You are _fantastica, bella_.” How do you respond to a compliment from a man who could snap his fingers and have you killed? I settled for a polite nod. 

“I have one question.” Papa III stood and walked across the room to me, staring at my face. The graceful way he moved reminded me of a snake. I didn’t like it. 

“Why the glasses?” He looked me right in the eye, inches away from my face, and I had to fight to keep eye contact. Papa or not, I wouldn’t break and appear weak to anyone. When I didn’t flinch, he reached and took my glasses off of my face. I gripped onto my walking stick to keep myself from snatching them back from him. 

“Ah, yes, like I said, _fratellone_.” He looked back to his brother, who seemed uninterested. At least, that’s what I assumed he did. Anything farther than two feet in front of my nose was a blur. “You have beautiful eyes. Why hide them?” 

“I-I just can’t see a thing without them.” I was so used to giving my usual ‘the audience just needs to connect with the music’ spiel but telling a Papa that felt like a good way to end up on some list with the Emeritus gang. 

“Oh.” Papa III sounded like he didn’t consider that I actually needed the glasses. “_Scusami_, I thought they were a, uh, a gimmick.” He placed the glasses back on my face. He pushed them up the bridge of my nose and back into place. 

“Regardless of eyesight,” Papa II sat with his arms folded and fingers drumming away on his arm. “We would like to see you again once you are healed. A week from today?” 

“Uh, yes. Yes, that should be fine.” Liz piped up from the corner. Gears were turning in her head. That was a week to get Idolatrine in a condition the Papas could stand to be in. 

“Very well.” Papa II stood and walked towards the stage door that led to the alley. “Come, _fratello_.” There was a tone to his voice that made it sound like he wanted out of the poor part of Zenith as quickly as possible. 

“_Buonasera, signora_.” Dante scooped up my hand and kissed the back. It took everything in me not to yank my hand out of his grasp. 

The Papas, especially Dante, were the type of people I hated the most. Smooth, charming, but looking down their nose at others. I willed them to walk faster to the door. The sooner they left, the better. 

“_Signore_ Copia!” The Third exclaimed as he opened the stage door. Liz turned to look at me as I put my head in my hand and muttered ‘oh, fuck.’ under my breath. Even though I knew Copia had been in the audience, I didn’t have the energy to speak to him. Not after how the last two days had been. 

“Why are you this far south, Copia?” Papa II voice was shocked, confused, and annoyed at seeing Copia waiting outside my dressing room. 

“W-well — I-I,” Copia sounded nervous at the best of times but seeing two Papas unnerved him.

“Did you come for the show?” Papa II crossed his arms over his chest again. 

“Y-yes.” I wasn’t able to see Copia past the Papas, but I imagined him twining his fingers round and round nervously.

“And what did you think?” Papa II kept the conversation going, and it confused me. Why was he speaking this much with Copia? The Second didn’t strike me as a man who would stop for a leisurely chat with anyone. 

“Uh, tonight, her singing was perfect a-as always.” Copia let out a nervous laugh. “Miss Cirice is, uh, much better when she can move about.” My insides squirmed at his words. His words made me sound so much better than I was, and I couldn’t handle praise on a good day. 

After a moment of pained silence, Copia let out another airy, nervous laugh. “Were you here to see her?” 

“As always? Do you come here often?” Papa III’s head quirked to the side as he ignored Copia’s question. 

“So you must think she is good, then?” Copia must have nodded at Dante’s first question, prompting the second. 

“The best.” Copia’s voice was a whisper on the wind. I would have missed it if I hadn’t been listening. The weird feeling in my chest intensified, and I turned away from Liz to keep her from seeing me flush. 

“Miss Monson,” Papa II called over his shoulder and Liz shot up to her feet, standing at attention. “We will not be needing to visit again. I shall send a Ghoul in the coming days with information on the performance.” With that, he strode past Copia and out into the night. Papa III followed his brother, stopping to pat Copia’s shoulder before the stage door slammed closed behind them. 

“Do I not get a say?” A fire ignited in my chest. “Entitled asshole thinks I’ll just go along because he’s an Emeritus?” I gripped my stick so hard my knuckles were white. 

“Are you not going to do it?” Liz looked at me, worried. 

“I...” Tears of frustration covered my eyes. Good thing I had my back to her. “I don’t fucking know, okay?” I stomped my way to the exit, snatching up my purse from the table muttering something about needing a smoke. 

Once out in the tepid summer air, I lit a cigarette and leaned against the alley wall. My makeshift walking stick fell to the ground as I let it go to put my head in my hand. 

I heard Copia’s shoes crunch in the gravel as he approached me. 

“Not right now.” I said, looking at the ground between my fingers. “Please, just... just... I can’t right now.” 

“You’ll perform for the Papas? For Nihil?” He asked, and I huffed out a breath through my nose. Anyone else I would have punched in the face for continuing to bother me. Copia got a pass because of how he treated me in the past, but I wouldn’t hold back if he kept on being tenacious. 

“I guess.” my palm muffled my voice.

“Shouldn’t you be excited?” He was right. Every other performer in Zenith would jump at the chance. 

“I don’t know...” I lifted my head to take a drag and tilted my neck until my head hit the brick wall with a dull knock. I exhaled, and the smoke floated past my lips and curled into the night sky. 

“Is something wrong?” Copia asked, and I scoffed at him. I took my time in responding, taking long slow drags off my cigarette while he waited in silence. 

“Yeah.” When I finally spoke, my voice dripped bitterness. “Something’s wrong with me. Me and everyone else in this fucking city. Especially you fucks in Majesty.”

“Excuse me?” Copia’s voice was a mix of confused and offended. 

“Tell me, Copia.” My head snapped towards him as I finally looked at him. “How do you make your money? How hard do you have to work for it? What do you do to afford that shiny car and chauffeur?”

“I... I’m not sure I can discuss--”

“Why?” I cut him off. “Feel bad about flaunting your wealth in front of a poor slum dweller?” Copia looked aghast, and I laughed. 

“Let me put it this way,” I tossed my spent cigarette onto the ground and stomped on it with the heel of my bad foot. I winced at the small zing of pain it sent through me, but I didn’t falter in my speech. 

“Have you ever worried about where you were gonna sleep? Or gone without food for days? Suffered and scraped for every cent you could get your hands on?” 

“I-I don’t understand.” 

“Of course you don’t!” The tears of frustration and rage were back, making a wobbling film over my eyes. Copia made to step towards me, but I held up my hand. 

“You know...” I sighed, biting my lip to stop my tears from flowing. “People see a kid on the streets, they think it’s sad. ‘Oh no, poor thing can’t fend for itself, give them some money.’” my voice mocked. 

“But when you’re 24, 25, 26, begging for scraps... People ignore you. Either that, or they pay you to do things that degrade you, things they make fun of you for doing... Terrible things.” I had to swallow the lump in my throat. “They get whatever laughs they want and then toss you back on the streets. You need that money to survive, so they can get away with anything.” 

Copia stood stock still, unsure what the right thing to do was. 

“They don’t give a shit about those people who can’t afford to feed themselves. It’s our fault in their eyes. They think we did this to ourselves.”

“Miss...” Copia started, and I held up my hand again. Now that I had started, I wouldn’t stop until I was finished. 

“The worst is when some rich fuck uses some poor, homeless person to make them feel good about themselves.” I chuckled bitterly, lifting my glasses to wipe away a tear that threatened to spill. “‘Oh, we’ve done such a nice thing,’ they say. ‘We’ve helped so much, what nice people we are.’ But they don’t give a shit about the person they’re helping. It’s all to stroke their fucking egos.” I raised my fist and drove it back into the wall. The prickling pain in my hand helped take some frustration away. 

“You don’t know how it feels, Copia.” I looked back up at the night sky. It was easier to yell my frustrations out to the black void of the universe than to look at him. “Being some kind of commodity. An object. Something to gawk at. Something to make you say ‘well, at least my life isn’t _that_ bad.’” 

  


I blinked and tears rolled down the sides of my face. Perching my glasses on my head, I covered my eyes with my forearm. I down the wall to the ground and my face covered to stop Copia from seeing any more tears. 

“And so the fucking Papas show up,” I spat their title like it tasted disgusting. “They say they like me but all I hear are two spoiled brats and their dad who want to be so noble for pulling this poor girl from the slums. They want to dress me up like some doll, sing for them like a canary in a cage, and then kick me right back into the gutter where they found me, patting themselves on the back the whole time.” 

“Miss Jordan...” Copia kneeled next to me. The dirt would stain his expensive red suit. I gestured back to shoo him away, but he grabbed onto my wrist. The sudden contact made me raise my head, but his sympathetic gaze made me want to crawl into a hole and die. 

“Is this why....?” Copia started. He worried his brow as he thought of the right words. 

“You told me last night that you do not take help you do not need.” Had I said that? The previous evening felt like a lifetime ago and I couldn’t remember. “Do you not take help from other because you think they will use you?”

“That’s how it’s been every time I’ve let my guard down.” I pulled my arm from his grasp. “They don’t give a shit about me as a person, or my music. They want a charity case that makes them look like saints, then toss me away once I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

“But your brother--”

“Yeah, I fucking know.” I snapped and Copia’s hands recoiled into his chest. “But... I could find another way. It will just take longer. It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.” 

“If I may ask... what is your brother’s illness?” 

“Some lung thing,” I muttered. With most of my tears having subsided, I took my glasses off my head and put them back on my face. “I can never remember the name. It’s too long.” 

I usually wasn’t one to divulge personal information, but Copia had seen me at my absolute worst so I had a small amount of trust regarding him. 

“They’re in Spöksonat, by the farms. Papa I’s territory. He can’t breathe the air here, so my Mom moved them out there while I stayed behind.” I curled up into a ball.

“Dad disappeared, leaving us all stranded. Mom couldn’t work because she had her hands full with Russel. So I stayed here to make some money.” 

Copia nodded, and I gave an exasperated sigh. 

“Don’t nod and act like you know.” Copia’s eyebrows shot up in shock at my words. “You don’t. You never will.” There was a moment of silence as I collected myself. Copia was too afraid to speak, nervous that he would set me off again. 

“I just got off the streets, Copia.” I rested my forehead on my arms and looked down at the gravel under me. “Liz found me. Got me a place to live. A steady job. For the first time, I’m proud of what I do.” The dirt crunched as Copia moved to sit next to me. 

“I won’t be used again. Not now, when I have a choice.” The words came out even more bitter than I expected them to.

“What if it was me paying you?” 

“What?” I raised my head and squinted at him. 

“I enjoy your music, Miss Jordan.” He rested his hands on his knees and twidled his thumbs. He had stopped caring that I noticed him doing it. 

“And I like you.” He added. “I’ve said as much.” 

“So?” I asked, not understanding where it was coming from. 

“Instead of the Papas hiring you, what if I did?” My face contorted with even more confusion. “I will hire you to perform. You’d be performing for me.” 

“What does that change?” I pushed back, still not getting what he was saying. 

“You’d be doing a job for someone who cares about you and likes what you do. Yes, there will be a crowd, but you’d be performing for me.” 

“You and your fucking loop holes.” I grumbled. “Can you even do that? Convince the Papas to let you hire me over them?”

“Yes, no problem at all.” He said matter-of-factly. “But would that make you feel better?” When I didn’t respond, he persisted. “I want to help you and your family.”

“You’ve helped me enough.” I muttered. 

“It’s not helping.” He pointed out. “It’s a job. You would provide a service for me.” I groaned in frustration. The sound bounced off of the brick walls and reverberated for a few seconds.

“You really want me to do this, huh?” I still didn’t understand Copia’s angle. “What do you get out of it?”

“I get to give back to someone who had brought me happiness.” Copia shrugged. “These past few months have been... let’s say difficult. Listening to you has made everything more bearable.”

I stared, a look of pure disbelief on my face. People didn’t talk to me that way. Not even my mother. 

Who the hell was this guy?

“All right.” I punctuated the word with a breathy sigh. “You won’t shut the fuck up about this so I’ll do it.” 

I reached for the shower curtain rod on the ground and righted it, pulling to raise myself up to a standing position. Copia stood up, moving to help me up before I smacked his hand away. I hobbled the few steps to the stage door and opened it before Copia gently put his gloved hand on my shoulder. 

“Are you going to be leaving soon, Miss Jordan?”

“I fucking hope so.” I wanted this day to end. Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be so exhausting and shitty. 

“Would you need a ride there?” 

My lips pressed together into a thin line at his question. I loathed to have Copia do another thing for me, but limping home in the dead of night sounded even worse. 

“I guess I do... But,” I jabbed a finger at him. “Nothing after this. This is the last time. For real.”

“I’m sure it is, Miss.” Copia’s usually small smile had stretched a few micrometers into a tiny grin.

I elbowed him in the ribs before I closed the stage door behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like a diatribe about the disenfranchised with your backstories.


	9. Chapter 9 -- Wrong Place Wrong Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan's appearance at the Emeritus manor doesn't go as planned.

Nihil’s mansion in Majesty loomed over the entire city. A golden palace on the top of the hill. I remember telling my mother when I was five that I’d live there one day and become a princess. 

Now I had the chance my childhood self always dreamed of and it terrified me.

The nicest dress I owned was gifted to me by The Black Death. As much as I dreaded even touching it, it fit me perfectly. Lush white fabric hugged all the right places and hid any imperfections. Red gems twisted around the bodice and sparkled when they caught any bit of light. Even if they weren’t real rubies, the dress would still cost over three months of rent. A slit up the right side went up to my mid thigh. My favorite cut of dress. I shuddered to think about how The Black Death knew that. 

Because I hadn’t taken the dress out of the garment bag, I didn’t see that The Black Death also provides accessories: red silk gloves and shoes to match, pearl bracelets, and a pearl choker with a large red stone in the middle. 

“This isn’t me...” I grumbled as I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. As perfect as the outfit was, something that fancy didn’t suit me. My subpar makeup and hair skills also made it look like I didn’t belong in something so elegant. 

“I think it looks perfect on you.” Liz was zipping me into the dress and peaked over my shoulder at my reflection. “You can have nice things, you know.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t want them.” I said. Liz sighed behind me.

“Just do your best tonight, okay?” she wrapped her arms around me from behind in a tight hug. She was so short that her forehead pressed between my shoulder blades. 

“Uh... yeah.” I awkwardly patted her arm, not knowing how to respond to affection but unwilling to hurt Liz’s feelings by pushing her away. I never wanted to do anything to upset her since I owed her so much. 

A knock sounded from the metallic backstage door. 

“That’s my ride.” I chewed at my lip as I grabbed my purse. Should I ask Liz for a newer bag? My purse was over a decade old and was worn and dirty. The strap had been sewn back on multiple times. It seemed out of place next to the flawless dress. 

Since when did I care about how I looked?

Copia and his still unseen driver had to take me to Nihil’s. No buses dared enter the gates that surrounded Majesty and it would take days to walk on my own. I couldn’t refuse his offer, since Johnny couldn’t drive me because he didn’t have a license to enter. Those took months to get. 

  


Copia also dressed in white and his eyebrows shot up when I opened the door. Would someone get the wrong idea about us and think I was Copia’s date? I didn’t have any problems with Copia, but being seen with him might give the wrong impression how I landed the performance. I’d rather die than have a single person think I slept my way to the top. 

“I didn’t know you would — uh — You look,” 

“Let’s just get this over with.” His reaction was weird and I tried to brush it off. I hiked up the skirt of my dress so the white fabric wouldn’t drag on whatever was in the disgusting alleyway and made my way to the car. 

Copia opened the door for me and held out his hand, but I refused it as always. Stepping in myself, I took my place on the far side of the back seat, pressed against the wall. My having a designated ‘spot’ in Copia’s car was a bad sign. That meant I let him do too many things for me. He told me I owed him nothing, but I still felt like I needed to do something in return. 

A few days ago, I decided to make this the last day I took any help from him. My ideal outcome of the situation was that I sang, picked up my check, and disappeared back into obscurity. Back to my normal life, never to see or hear from Copia or the Papas again.

I wondered if I would gather the nerve to tell Copia to stop coming to my shows that night or if it I would wait for the next morning. 

Either way, He couldn't keep showing up backstage and smooth talking me into whatever he wanted from me. I knew by now he didn’t have bad intentions, but my pride wouldn’t let me continue to be around him. He shouldn’t be around like someone like me, anyway. 

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. 

“Your ankle, it’s...?” We drove for a few minutes before Copia said something, and he couldn’t get out a full sentence.

“Yeah, fine.” I showed him my once injured foot, rolling the joint to show there was no more pain. He left for two weeks, so he wouldn’t have known. He dropped me off at my apartment the night I agreed to take the job and I hadn’t seen him since. It was strange to not see him after shows for 14 straight performances.

The gifts from The Black Death, though, had continued unimpeded. Each night, a bouquet and a card complimenting me and wishing me luck. I was running out of room backstage because I was too afraid to throw them away. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been...” he hesitated. “I left because...” I looked from the window over to him and looked at his hands in his lap, lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Business stuff, yeah?” I tried to finish his thought for him and he nodded. “It’s no big deal. I figured you were off doing whatever the hell it is you do.” He nodded at my words, but seemed no more at ease. Copia hadn’t told me what he did for work. It must have been important, though. Otherwise he wouldn’t get paid so much.

“I was looking for someone.” Copia weighed his words before speaking. 

“You’re a hitman?” I couldn’t imagine Copia killing anyone but his silence at my question made me uneasy. 

“I am in charge of the Repugnant... uh... the problem with that group.” He explained. 

“You’ve been in South Zenith looking for members, then?” The pieces started falling into place in my mind. 

“Yes.” Copia nodded. “I had been following a lead and I saw a few members causing a ruckus outside of Idolatrine. I came in to see if the club was a hangout for the gang when...” 

When he’d seen me perform, and he kept coming back. 

“Why tell me this?” I had a lot of questions answered, but Copia didn’t need to tell me his life story. 

“I didn’t want you to be confused if people say certain things to me.” He shrugged. “You will already be out of your element. I didn’t want to make it worse for you.” 

“Thanks, I guess?” My brow furrowed, and I looked away from him, taking a moment to think. I wondered if Copia answered to Nihil himself. Maybe that was how he was on such casual speaking terms with Papa II and Papa III. But did he only locate members? What did he do once he found them? Did he kill them? A chilling realization hit me:

The Black Death hit outside the club was the day before I met Copia. 

Did he work with The Black Death? 

Was he The Black Death? 

My face turned towards the window as I started to panic. I suddenly didn’t know the man I had trapped in a car with. There was no other way for me to leave Majesty; Public transit didn’t exist that far north and I wouldn’t get away from him on foot if Copia had his car. I made up my mind. Once Copia took me home, I would tell him to never come back. Even if he only worked for The Black Death, I didn’t want to put myself in that kind of danger. 

Well, any more danger than I had already been in. 

I jumped when the car door opened, so engrossed in my own thoughts I was not aware that we had already made it to the Emeritus Manor. 

A footman stood to the side, holding the door open. Copia exited the car first, seeming very at ease, and turned back to me. He didn’t bother offering me his hand since he knew I wouldn’t take it. However, the footman offered his, and I took it awkwardly. Contact with a stranger was uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to act like some rude, snobby diva in front of the richest people in Zenith. 

Once I left the car, it felt like I stepped into another universe. The mansion, all light stone and gold accents, was immaculate. There was a long walk up to the entrance that was lined with well kept bushes and flowers and lit by ornate golden lanterns. It was already dusk and the sky behind the manor was a gradient of orange, pink, and blue. The entire scene looked like a painting. 

Copia held out his arm for me to take and I just stared, uncomfortable. I gave a small shake of my head and started the walk up to the mansion, leaving Copia sighing in my wake. 

Ghouls lined the entire walk up the stone path to the doorway. All of them wore vests, cuffs, ties, or at least pocket squares to match the color of the Papa they served. Red, purple, green, and gold were scattered around. I noted none of them wore only black. 

Many of the partygoers seemed to tense around the Ghouls. I noticed a few women huddle closer together as they passed by a pair. 

“Aren’t the Ghouls like... servants or something?” I slowed down to walk in stride with Copia so I could whisper in his ear. “Why is everyone scared of them?” Seeing a Ghoul in South Zenith was something to fear, since they rarely strayed far from their Papa, but I thought people in Majesty would see them everywhere. 

“Not exactly...” Copia muttered before giving a slight wave to someone who seemed to recognize him. “Ghouls are more like the muscle for the Papas.” 

“Then why are they all over the place?” I asked. “Every person here is richer than the entire central and south sides combined. I didn’t think they would get so rowdy that they would need this much security.”

“It’s not that they expect the guests to cause trouble.” Copia said with a gentle chuckle. “We’ve had threats coming in against Nihil and there have been stirrings suggesting a potential attack by Repugnant.” A man in a well-fitted suit nodded at Copia and he gave a polite nod back. The man’s eyes then turned to me, curious. I gave the same nod Copia did, and quickly looked away. 

The entryway was red walls with gold accents and marble floors. A plush red carpet cut through the halls to keep the stone from being scuffed by shoes. Paintings, no doubt priceless works or art, hung on every wall. It was everything I had imagined. But instead of being a princess, I was an imposter. A child playing dress up. I was making the entire manor unclean by being there. 

The feeling only got worse as we followed the crowd towards what looked like a ballroom. I didn’t trust Copia at the moment, but I stayed glued to his side. He was the only familiar thing for miles. Being around him was the lesser of two evils. Copia asked me a few questions, but I couldn’t hear them over the roaring heartbeat in my ears as I became more and more terrified. I threaded my fingers together, hands trembling. As we inched closer to the ballroom, my heart beat faster and faster. It was like walking towards a guillotine. The din of the crowd gave me the grim image of them coming to watch my public execution. 

I should never have come. I didn’t belong there. Things from the gutter should stay in the gutter, not be put on display in someone’s home. 

But where could I go?

“Isn’t there a dressing room or something I should go to?” my hand latched onto Copia’s arm just before we passed the threshold into the party proper, desperate for any excuse to not go inside. 

“I’m not sure.” Copia, seeing my eyes wide with fear, placed a hand on my shoulder. “I can go ask if you want to stay here.” 

“No, no, I can go.” I gripped his arm tighter. I feared being in the crowd at all but I feared being alone in it more. What if someone tried to talk to me? I doubted there would be a lot of common ground between me and anyone else in all of Majesty. Copia must have realized this, because he patted my hand assuringly. 

“We’ll find out quickly so you can go get ready, right?” He understood my need to protect my pride, and it almost made me cry. My feelings about him were conflicting, but it was nice to have someone who understood be nearby. 

I took a few breaths and gave Copia a nod. He kept his hold on my arm so I wouldn’t lose him in the crowd. We just had to find whoever was in charge and get this over with. 

A large stage took up the back of the ballroom and we made our way to it, keeping to the walls to avoid the thicker parts of the crowd. A thick velvet curtain covered most of the stage, but the golden arches framing it were stunning. I tried to picture myself performing under them and couldn’t. 

We had only taken a few steps before flashes of light blinded me. The snapping of cameras made me realize that members of the press were everywhere, covering the party. I didn’t want to give any interviews, so I ducked my head to avoid being spotted. No one here knew my music, but Papa III said he had seen me on posters. Someone might have seen my face on one. 

_ “Bella, Bella, Bella.” _ The voice of Papa III caught me before I saw him appear through the crowd. The skull paint on his face was immaculate and his suit trimmed with gold thread that matched the golden claws on his gloves. I hated how charming he was. 

“Why are you hiding? This should be a good moment to get your name out, no?” His dazzling smile made my stomach turn. 

“I’m not here for that.” I said before I could bite back the words. “Uh, I mean--” 

“She prefers to let her music speak for itself.” Copia covered for me and I nodded in agreement. 

“Of course.” Papa’s smile widened. “But if you have the time, please mingle and meet a few people. Your reputation precedes you and there are many who would like to meet you.” My stomach dropped as The Third kissed both my cheeks before whispering_ ‘break a leg, Bella’ _into my ear and melting back into the crowd. 

“I knew it.” I said under my breath. I froze amongst the bustling bodies around me, a heavy weight in my chest. Just as I suspected, I was there as a novelty: The poor street urchin the Emeritus family shined up to present to the world. They wanted me to shake as many hands as possible to show that they were charitable. I wondered if there had been some kind of scandal they were hoping to cover up with good PR. 

My eyes flickered to Copia, who was looking at me pitifully. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” I spat at him quietly so others around us wouldn’t hear. I had ranted and screamed and cried to him about this very thing but I still didn’t want his sympathy. It was embarrassing that I showed so much weakness to him to begin with.

“You’re here to perform for me, right?” He tried to calm me down, but that only made me feel worse. 

“I can sing for you some other time.” I muttered, looking down at my polished red shoes. “I can’t do it here. Not where people will point cameras at me and congratulate themselves for being nice enough to let me through Majesty’s gates.” 

Sadness and rage mixed within me and fought to be the dominant emotion in my mind. Copia took a step closer to comfort me and I pushed him away. 

“I’m not doing this.” I clenched my jaw and stood up straight. In an instant, anger won out, and it was rushing through my veins in hot waves. I’d felt weak and afraid from the moment I left the club and I had reached my limit. I told myself a long time ago that I was done being scared. I was stronger than this. I had to be. 

“I’m sorry, Jord- uh, Miss Cirice.” Copia caught himself. “I didn’t think they would bring the press here. I never would have asked if--”

“Save your ‘sorry’ for someone who cares. I’m done.” 

“Done?” 

“I never should have talked to you. I should have slammed the door in your fucking face.” People were taking notice now that I stopped hushing my voice. My heart steeled over as my stubbornness and anger took full control. But it was for the best. Being angry was better than being weak.

Years ago I’d shut myself off after being hurt one too many times. I was wrong to let my guard down, to let myself be soft. Everyone wanted to take advantage of me and I was a fool for thinking otherwise.

“You and your kind words and favors. It’s all bullshit, isn’t it?” my eyes stung as I spat venom at Copia. I expected him to shy away like he had before, but he just stood with his hands in his pockets. His expression remained solemn, and it made me even more furious.

“I don’t want to see you again.” His brow furrowed, but he still took my abuse without flinching. “I don’t know if you’re a fucking murderer or what, but I don’t need you or the Papas. Stay in your lane and I’ll stay in mine.” I lifted my glasses to pat at the corners of my eyes. The wet makeup stained the vibrant red of my gloves.

“Sir.” A Ghoul had zipped through the crowd and tapped Copia on the shoulder. 

“Not now.” Copia brushed him off. The Ghoul wore only black. 

zz“It’s been you the whole time, hasn’t it?” I let out a laugh tinged with disbelief. “It’s been a game from the start.” My heart hardened even further. 

“Sir, we have a problem.” The Ghoul tapped Copia a little harder and Copia shoved back just as intensely. 

“Not. Now.” he said. “Go bother Aether.”

“Did you think it was funny?” I said bitterly, “Did you laugh to yourself as you sent those gifts? Was it fun?” 

“I can explain--” 

“Sir.” The Ghoul hadn’t moved. He gripped Copia’s shoulder so hard that it looked like it hurt. 

“Leave, you disobedient beast!” It was the first time Copia had yelled around me. It was deep and booming, full of authority, and powerful enough that I flinched. Every head in the room turned to him. 

I could see his look of remorse when he realized what he’d done just before the lights went out. 

The darkness was so sudden that it took me a moment to realize what had happened. The sun was still on the horizon and the twilight made everything just barely visible. A stunned silence overtook the crowd before the sound of many large, expensive windows shattering cut through the room. Chaos erupted as the crowd started to panic. 

“Repugnant, sir.” The Ghoul said neutrally. I could barely hear him over the sound of hundreds of expensive shoes hitting the marble flooring as the crowd started to run in every direction. “We don’t know how they got into Majesty but there is a large enough group that they took out the outer security in minutes.” Copia’s eyes widened, and he looked to me. He stepped forward to grab me but I backed away from him.

Having thrown myself back into the bustling crowd, a woman in a flowing dress slammed into me. She didn’t break stride as she knocked me over, my glasses flying from my face and onto the polished floor. I reached for them only to have my hand stepped on. I let out a cry of pain that almost drowned out the nearby sound of glass and metal being smashed under someone’s foot. 

My heart was racing like a hummingbird’s. I was nearly blind without my glasses. How would I get out of the mansion? How would I get out of Majesty without Copia or the ability to see? 

As I was panicking, someone pulled me up by the hair. 

“Sorry, dear.” A man’s voice came from behind me. His breath washed over the back of my neck and made my skin crawl. “Wrong place wrong time, it seems. But we need hostages for leverage so we can get a few things done. You understand, right, sweetheart?”

White, all-encompassing fear came over me and my body went on autopilot. 

I slammed my elbow back into my attacker, making him double over and loosen his grip on my hair. I jerked my head away and pivoted to face him. Without my glasses, he was a blur, but I could make out the outline of his body in the fading light. I grabbed at his head and brought it down onto my knee, hearing him cry out in pain as he dropped to the floor on his hands and knees. I didn’t know if I had broken his teeth or his nose, but something gave way. 

While the grunt was stunned, I scrambled behind him and grabbed onto his shirt, moving my hand up his back until I found his shoulder. The man was still moaning in pain, so he paid me little mind. He didn’t have time to realize what I was doing before I pulled him up by his shoulder. I wrapped my elbow around his throat and squeezed. He struggled and gasped, but his attempts became more feeble as he began to pass out. 

“Sorry, dear.” I breathed into his ear before he lost consciousness and dropped to the floor with a satisfying whump. 

My chest was heaving as I tried to catch my breath, full of adrenaline and preparing to run, when a sharp blow hit the side of my head. I fell to the side, but quickly sprung to my feet to face my attacker. Everything around me was blurry shapes, so I couldn’t see what had happened. My blindness gave the man who had hit me time to move behind me, wrap his arm around my throat, and pull me against him. 

“I like a girl who can defend herself.” This one sounded even more smug than the last. “But now’s not the time for that.” I heard the click of a switchblade and felt cool metal on my skin. “For now, you’ll come quietly. Maybe we’ll see about putting you in our ranks.” 

My mind raced with ideas of how to break out of the hold. My hand was halfway to the switch in my purse when the arm around me slackened and the knife dropped away. 

I turned, prepared to face another attacker, but was met with something worse. 

The grunt was close enough to me I could see the terrified look on his face. A large hand held tightly to the top of his head. He gasped and wheezed and struggled as a rolling black mist came from the hand holding him. The mist seeped into the pores of his skin and the veins in his face became prominent before eroding away. Skin sloughed off his skull. His eyes rolled back, decaying. He let out a final breath from a mouth that was now more teeth than lips and the hand tossed the former Repugnant grunt to the floor. 

My eyes followed the falling arc of the corpse as I stood paralyzed in fear. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

aaThe hushed, sorrowful voice caught my ear over the roaring of the fleeing crowd. I looked to the sound and saw a striking white eye and the blur of a white suit. 

Copia took a step closer into my field of vision as he tugged his glove back on. I stepped back, knocking into more people. Most of the guests had left and the overwhelming population of the room was becoming Repugnant members. Around us were the sounds of the gang breaking things and the sound of wooden bats and metal crowbars hitting any object they could reach. Some of those objects sounded human. 

“Come with me.” Copia grabbed for me again and I let out a cry of terror. “Please.” He kept his hand outstretched. “I’ll get you someplace safe and then you’ll never see me again. I swear it.” When I didn’t say no, he scooped me up in his arms and rushed through the crowd. The second he touched me, fear wrapped around my heart like a python crushing its meal. 

Copia had killed that man just by touching him. Was that about to happen to me?

“I would have to have my gloves off and touch bare skin.” Copia must have been able to read my mind. “But I would never hurt you.” 

“Where are you taking me?” I noticed we were running in the opposite direction of the crowd and started struggling in his arms. 

“There’s another place. It’s more hidden and you’ll be able to run.” He explained. “Just run down the hill until you hit the road. My driver is looking for you and will take you back to Idolatrine. Stay there tonight. You should be able to go home in the morning.”

“How can I trust you?” I demanded. 

“Consider this a final favor, Jordan.” I was struck silent by him using my name so plainly.

Copia’s feet hit the grass, and he released me from his arms, making sure I landed on my feet. Before I could get my bearings, Copia threw his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. 

“I’m so sorry.” His head buried into the crook of my neck. His voice filled with a deep sorrow again as he crushed me to him. 

“I wasn’t trying to trick you.” When I attempted to pull away, he released me from his arms but clutched my hands.

“Please let me explain.” He begged, and I stopped resisting. If this would be the last I ever heard from him, I might as well get answers. 

“I’ve been selfish all the way through. I used my status to get your attention. I was an overzealous fan at first and I have no excuse for that.” That first bouquet had been enormous. Overzealous was a good word for it. 

“I was selfish even when I first spoke to you.” He admitted. Remorse was etched into his eyes.

“That Repugnant boy got in the way but I still wanted to talk to you.” His eyes flitted around nervously and he avoided looking at me. 

“But once I got to know you,” Copia took in a wavering breath and squeezed my hands. “I realized that I had done the wrong thing. You didn’t need an obsessive fan, you needed a friend.”

“What?” I scoffed. Copia pulled my hands to his chest, afraid I was about to run.

“You deserve so much more than life has given you.” My anger towards him faltered for a moment before coming back more resolute than ever. I would not fall for sweet words again. 

“I spoke to Miss Monson the night I saw your apartment. She begged me to make your life even a little easier. We both want to ease your suffering because we care about you.” 

“I am not suffering.” I grumbled. 

“How you live would kill a lesser person.” He let out a mournful chuckle. His chest rumbled against my hands.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” I protested again.

“I wanted so badly to make you smile. We all did. Miss Monson, Johnathan, and I.” I felt weird about Liz and Johnny being in on everything, but in the back of my mind I was touched.

“But by then you...” He faltered and chewed on his bottom lip. “You had seen what I had done and were terrified of the Black Death. I couldn’t just come out and tell you without you running from me.” 

“I never asked for this. I don’t want to hurt anyone, you least of all. But I knew that one day you would have to leave me behind to stay safe.” He paused for a moment to look at me. One of his hands released mine and moved to rest on my cheek. My face burned, startled by the display of affection. I would have pushed away anyone else. 

“I didn’t think we’d be parting so soon.” He gave me a small, sad smile. “But I did everything wrong.” He chewed on his lip for another moment. 

“You were right. You should have shut that door in my face. I should have never forced you to be around me. I’m sorry I wronged you but,” He paused, letting out a sad sigh as his eyes crinkled fondly at me. 

“But I’m not sorry for having met you.”

“Copia...” I sighed. I’d never seen his expression on anyone else before, full of compassion and remorse at the same time. What he had done was upsetting. What he was was upsetting. But no one had ever tried as hard as he did to befriend and help me. 

“I forgive you.”

His eyebrows shot up to his forehead and his jaw went slack. Once he processed what I said, his eyebrows creased together, pushing tears to the corners of his eyes. His mouth pressed into a thin line and upturned into a weak smile as his chin wobbled. His eyes filled with relief, like I had just saved his life. 

“Thank you.” He whispered.

Tears welled up in my eyes, realizing he would really be gone in a few moments, and I couldn’t stop a small sob from tearing through my chest. 

Tears were flowing from the both of us. Tears of grief and betrayal, of compassion and anger, of sorrow and happiness. Everything was mixing into one final moment and I threw my arms around Copia. Even though he had lied to me, hugging him was the right thing to do. 

Copia froze at my unexpected touch but after a beat his own arms snaked around me. A silent goodbye to each other. 

We let go and Copia took my face in his hands again. He gazed at me, as if memorizing every inch of my face.

“Be happy, Jordan.” 

With that, he was gone. I blinked and all I could see was a blur of his white suit as he walked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried no less than 3 times while writing and editing this chapter so if someone else doesn't cry over this I'm going to riot.


	10. Chapter 10 -- Helping Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's finish this up.

I stared after Copia for a long time. What would happen to him? Would he be okay? Would I really never see him again?

Part of me wished he would come back. 

The sound of glass smashing inside the manor startled me into action. Obeying Copia’s instructions, I sprinted blindly down the hill the manor rested on. Behind me were the sounds of the partygoers fleeing and of more destruction being caused by Repugnant, but all I could focus on was the sound of my heavy breathing and the tears that were still dripping down my face. .

I reached the bottom of the hill and hit a sidewalk. I heard a car pull up beside me almost immediately. It was a black smudge in my impaired vision, so I tensed when I heard its engine turn off and the car door open. I was prepared to throw punches when a Ghoul in all black walked into focus. 

“Have you been driving me around this whole time?” I asked. The Ghoul nodded. 

To think I would have found out Copia’s secret if I once dared to look into the tinted driver’s side window. 

The Ghoul reached out a hand to help me into the car. I hesitated, looking from their hand to their face, before taking it. I didn’t need to struggle to guide myself into the car when I couldn’t see shit. 

Once I was situated in the car, the Ghoul gave me a nod and closed the door. As the car engine revved back to life, I leaned against the left side window and looked out into the night. The sun had set and the lights of Central and South Zenith had some to life and were white smudges in my eyes. 

After a moment, my eyes flickered to the other side of the car. There was no one there, and it felt wrong. I hadn’t even been in his car that many times, but I was so used to seeing Copia sitting opposite me and bothering me. 

No, not bothering me. Trying to help me. I was just too stubborn to accept anything without constant prodding.

I tried to swallow the massive lump in my throat that built as I stared at the vacant seat. 

\--

The Ghoul came to help me out of the car once we pulled up to Idolatrine. They closed the door behind me and then held something out to me. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was so I took it from the Ghoul and held it closer to my face. 

It was an envelope with my name on it. Looking inside I saw a check and a letter. 

“I can’t accept this.” I held it back out to the Ghoul and they shook their head, the movement catching the moonlight on their mask. 

“I’m sure he gave you orders or something to make sure I take this but, really, I can’t.” The Ghoul didn’t move an inch. 

“Please,” I said, my voice warbling as the lump in my throat started to grow again. “I can’t. Not after all this.” 

Then the Ghoul spoke, the raspy whisper of someone who didn’t use their vocal cords. 

“Said could not leave.... Until Miss take it.” 

“Of course he did.” I sighed. “Will you just trail behind me until I accept it?”

“Told to follow, yes.” The Ghoul’s inhales wheezed. It was a great effort for them to speak. “Told because... Sir might not... Come back.” 

“Yeah, he said that he wouldn’t show up here again. I already knew that.” saying it aloud made my chest ache. 

“No,” The Ghoul shook their head again. “Dangerous.” 

“What, Repugnant?” I asked. The Ghoul nodded. “But they’re just some punks. They couldn’t take down someone like Copia.” 

“Leader Mary there.” The Ghoul explained. “Dangerous. Strong. Sir fights alone.”

“Wait, he ran into a swarm of dozens of Repugnant grunts alone? What about the other Ghouls.”

“Many killed.” The Ghoul’s neutral whisper sounded sad for a moment. “Survivors must protect bosses.” 

“So the Emertius family gets protected while Copia protects himself?” The Ghoul didn’t respond. I looked down at the envelope in my hands. 

“If all the Ghouls are protecting the Papas,” I started. “Why aren’t you with them.”

“Another reason.... Sir might not... come back.” They sounded sad again. “Disobeyed. Kept secrets. Bosses don’t like.”

“There’s no way they’d kill their assassin just for sending one Ghoul off, right?” I tried to rationalize. “They need him.”

“Bosses can...” The Ghoul took in a wheezing breath. “Make new one.” 

“Make a new one? What does that mean?”

“Sir not the first.” The Ghoul tried to explain, but I understood less and less the more they said. “Sir not always Sir.” 

“Are you saying that Copia was made into The Black Death? That there were others before him?” 

“Cannot tell.” There was enough moonlight for me to be able to see the Ghoul shrug. 

So, when Copia took me out of the manor, he knew he was either going to die at the hands of Repugnant or the Emeritus family? 

When he said this was his final favor, he really meant it. 

“Okay. Thank you.” Tears filled my eyes and I let out a shaky breath as I held the envelope to my chest. The Ghoul didn’t respond, just got back in the car. I watched as they backed out of the alley and drove out into the night. 

I stared after it until I couldn’t see the break lights any longer and then opened the stage door into the club. 

I stumbled around my dressing room, bumping into every chair and table along the way. A string of curses fell from my lips as I fought to navigate through all of the shit I kept in there. 

“Who’s there?” Liz’s voice reached me as she came backstage. All I could see was her orange curly hair. 

“Hey, Liz.” I gave her a casual wave. “Can you give me a hand here? I can’t see.” 

“Jordan!” She shrieked and threw her arms around me. “We heard what happened. It’s all over the radio. I was so, so scared and I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

“Thanks, Liz.” I wrapped one arm around her.

“What happened to you? To your glasses?” 

“A lot happened.” I sighed. “But, uh, can you help me out with something?” The words felt weird in my mouth. 

“Help?” Liz gasped like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Um, yeah,” I paused, struggling against my instincts. “Can you or Johnny take me to get new glasses? Oh, and to cash this?” I opened the envelope and pulled out the check. I would leave the letter for when I could read it. 

“Oh, of course!” She sounded overjoyed. 

“Liz, I’m just asking for some help with errands. You don’t have to get all riled up.” 

“I know, but I’m so happy!” Liz squeezed her arms tighter around me. “I’ve wanted you to ask me to help for so long.” 

“Yeah... I know.” I patted her back a few times, not sure what else to do during a hug. “Sorry.” 

“What about Mr. Copia?” Liz pulled back and looked around. “Did he bring you back? Is he okay?” When I turned my face away from her she gasped. 

“Oh no, Jordan, what happened?” 

“A lot happened.” I repeated. “Help me over to a chair and I’ll tell you. You’re gonna want to sit down, too.”

\---

A lot happened in the weeks following. 

After I got new glasses, I let Liz and Johnny see my apartment. They were both taken aback, as I expected. But I shocked them even more when I asked them where I could buy a bedframe and sheets. 

“For yourself?” Johnny asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “That check had enough on it. Thought maybe I could get a few things.” Asking for help was like pulling teeth, but I was trying.

“Jordan!” Liz wrapped her arms around me for another tight hug. “You’re not sending to all to Russel?” I shook my head. “I’m so proud of you!” she squealed. 

“Please don’t make a big deal out of this.” I grumbled. “It’s hard enough without you gushing over it.” 

“Oh, sorry.” She took a step back. 

“It’s fine.” I shrugged. “Oh, and do you know anyone who fixes fridges? My freezer’s been busted for months. I might fuck up my ankle again and need ice.” 

\---

Two weeks after the Repugnant attack on the Emeritus Manor, I sat backstage at Idolatrine, putting on makeup for my performance. I heard the floor creek and my eyes flickered over to where a Ghoul used to appear for their nightly visits. When Liz came in and saw me staring, I quickly looked away. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to...” Liz said sadly. 

“No, it’s okay.” I shook my head and turned back to my mirror. “I just keep expecting something from him. Anything.” I looked down at the envelope on my vanity. I couldn’t bring myself to read the letter. It felt like everything would really be over if I did. 

“Well, you never know.” Liz tried to sound optimistic. “Maybe something will happen.” 

“Copia was too persistent, Liz.” My eyes watered from saying his name and I blinked a few times to force the tears back. “Something would have shown up by now.” 

Liz was silent for a moment before she stepped closer and grabbed my hand. 

“I’m sorry, Jordan.” She said to my reflection in the mirror. “He was a good man. I mean, considering, well...” she stammered and I had to laugh. 

\--

Months ticked by, and one night I sat in my dressing room staring at the unopened letter. My eyes flickered over to the calendar and I stood to flipped back, counting the days. 

91 days. 

91 days without anything. 

That was long enough. 

I hesitantly picked up the envelope and sat down on my overstuffed couch to open it. Over three months of agonizing over it, I had imagined many times what the letter would say. I expected some long, sorrowful goodbye letter, so I was surprised to find the message brief. 

_ Jordan,  _

_ I will most likely never see you again. Just know that, whether I survive this night or not, I will always wish for your happiness.  _

_ Take care of yourself. Live. Thrive. Bring your music to everyone so that they can feel the joy it can bring.  _

_ You deserve the world. But since I cannot give that, the amount I’ve enclosed should be enough for both you and your brother to be comfortable for a long time.  _

_ I treasure the time we spent together, and I hope you can one day look back on me with fondness.  _

_ Goodbye. _

_ \- C _

_ _

Tears dripped down my cheeks and onto the paper, smearing the ink. Quickly, I folded the letter back up and put it back in the envelope so I wouldn’t further ruin it. Standing, I returned the letter to its place on my vanity. I lifted my glasses and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand before grabbing my purse and stepping out into the alley. 

I stayed in the alley for a long time, staring at the wall. I lit a cigarette burned all the way down without me taking a single puff off of it. 

Reading that letter officially closed a door that I was willing to stay open. That was his goodbye, and he was never coming back. 

I tossed my cigarette butt into the dirt and turned to go back inside when I saw someone pass by the alleyway. I thought I imagined it, but I could have sworn I saw the silver glint of a Ghoul mask. 

Even though I knew it was foolish, I ran out of the alley after the figure. I just needed to be sure. 

“Hey, wait!” There was no one else on the street this late at night, so the person walking away had to know I was speaking to them. They hesitated for a second, before walking faster. 

“Oh, come on! I just want to talk for a second!” I picked up the pace and so did they. I groaned loudly and stopped for a moment to slip off my heels. I held them tightly in my hands as I started a full-on sprint. The figure moved even faster and I quickly ran out of breath and had to stop. 

“Do you... Do you know Copia?” I shouted between labored breaths. 

That made the person stop. 

“Please, just tell me,” I pleaded. “Is he...?”

Finally the figure turned and I could see that they were a Ghoul like I had thought. 

“Cannot say.” The raspy voice of the Ghoul who had taken me to safety reached me. 

“Can I... Can I give you something? For him?” I asked. The Ghoul contemplated for a moment before giving a slow, hesitant nod. 

“Do you have a pen and paper?” I asked. The Ghoul shook his head. 

“Can you wait for a minute, then? Just one message, I promise.” Another slow, hesitant nod. 

“Ten minutes.” I told the Ghoul before running back to my dressing room. 

I scrambled to find a piece of paper and a pen and write down everything I wanted to. I wrote about how I’d been taking care of myself. I had food in my fridge, I had decorated my apartment, I had started taking days off. I wrote about asking for help when I needed it and about how I’m balancing taking care of my family without running myself into the ground. 

But, most of all, I wrote down how much he helped me and how much I missed him and hoped he was okay. 

When I finished, I folded up the paper and ran back out to the Ghoul. They were in the exact place I left them. I skidded to a halt in front of them and presented the letter. They took it and looked at the paper for a moment. 

“If Sir... can get...” They said cautiously. “Sir will get.” 

I thanked them and watched them walk down the block, get into Copia’s shiny black car, and drive away. 

Just like that night months ago, I watched until I couldn’t see them anymore and I was alone on the street. 

The next day, the Ghoul returned with flowers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience on this last chapter! I had a lot of big projects due at school all at once, so I didn't have time to get this ready. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story. 
> 
> \-- Birdy


End file.
